


Taste of Bittersweet Disaster

by Crystalbluefox01



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Dark, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gay Sex, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Rape, Relationship(s), Rough Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-11-24 12:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18164930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalbluefox01/pseuds/Crystalbluefox01
Summary: Sanji has made a stupid mistake, there leads to a nasty argument there leaves a gash in between the crewmembers. Too late they realises that a drug was at fault,  unbeknownst to Sanji himself, but before they can do anything about it, Sanji is gone and Zoro feels at fault for it. In the search they finds out he's been, once again drugged and ambushed in the dark streets. His nightmare has only just begun. Will he ever become the one he once were? Will the wound in between them heal? And what are these feelings Zoro starts to feel for the cook?





	1. Painful realities

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
Sometimes it’s just better to keep  
your eyes closed.  
Sometimes it’s better not to could feel  
Anything at all.  
Death sometimes would have been an easier solution.  
God!  
Just tell me that all this just is a nightmare…  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

-~:Chapter 1:~-   
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
Painful realities  
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 

Early mornings were the only time of the day where it was possible to have some peace and quiet. But waking before the sun even had touched the sky, because of some shitty marines thought they could ambush them during the time they slept, and not even an hour later after kicking all of their sorry asses overboard, some fucking pirate ship thought they’d make an entry as well, were damn hell tiring. As an island finally came into view at the time he were preparing the crew something to snack on, Sanji couldn’t wait to leave the ship and let some random restaurant dinner the bottomless captain, while he himself would find the nearest Inn, get a room, get some good wine and sleep till the next day, or maybe even the day after – he nearly sounded like the marimo-head now. Though if the ladies needed his aid for anything, he wouldn’t say “no”. Though being a gentleman, could he avoid it for once, he’d gladly do.

Though his plans rarely became a reality, and this one was no excuse. Barely had they set food on the new land, and the ladies wanted his assist for the shopping, and just as he’d thought he could relax, the damn captain decided they all should throw gigantic party at one of the many local Inns.

He doesn’t even remember how the party ended, how he went back to bed, just that he’d got an awful lot of alcohol, if he should go after the next day’s blinding headache… and that some shit had happened. Some serious stupid shit that even made the stupid good-for-nothing marimo to use his first-mate-card. They went into a fight, they split and then… then what?

Sanji squirms as the beam of the sunlight almost blinds him. He’s tempted to close his eyes again, but something feels off, and soon he realises he’s neither at his room at the Inn or the Men’s sleeping quarters at the Sunny. No, he can’t recognise the surroundings, and another thing:

He can’t get up!

Hissing at the movement, Sanji gets a horrible picture of his situation, as he finds both his arms restrained above his brain-cracking head and both legs tied idly well together in a position, as if he’s about to give birth. And he’s naked. No wonder that he feels cold. He can’t remember anything after the fight at the Inn. Nadas! Nothing! The heck happened since he ended up in this God old apartment? He can’t move his legs, as he tries, pain emits from them. Trying the ropes above him again, only reassures him that he can’t get the fuck out of this. 

A door opens from somewhere, someone enters. An icy chuckle makes itself known, and sounds horrible familiar, though he can’t picture from where. He can’t see anything but the contours of the nightmarish shadow nearing him, but as he cranes his neck to follow the shadow’s movements, he clearly sees the long thin knife, or what the heck it is, candles stands underneath it to warm up the blade. Inhuman clear eyes never leave him, as white sharp animalistic teeth gleams in the candlelight. 

“Awake again I see? Ready for the next round?” a deep chuckle sounds. “You can’t see me, kid?” he mocks observationally. 

Sanji growls. “Who the fuck are you?” he slurs, as if he has drunk a whole bar bankrupt. “Why the heck I’m naked, shitty creep-pervert?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you remember,” the shadow promises, as he snaps his fingers, and more shadows enters the room, floating in as a swarm of cockroaches. He hates cockroaches, he hates insects, and somehow these gangling shadows reminds him of those creatures. 

Orders growls out, a rubber band tightens around his arm, and then he sees the syringe. Sanji tosses around, growls and bites as they get too close, and barely cares about how the ropes only grinds deeper into his hands as it tightens around them. What worries him is that he still can’t move his legs.

“Hold him down!” sounds an impatient command, and soon the cockroaches are all over him, keeping him still, even his head, even though he tries to bite them and head-but them. Sanji roars as the syringe gets near him again and japs right into the vein in his arm. 

“Noo!! Let me the hell go, damn it! You fucking shitty idiots!” 

The last of whatever shit they were giving him were forced in hard, before the needle disappeared. They didn’t let go of him, even though they knew his fight was in vain and the ropes too well bound.

“I wonder how much it’ll take before you break, kid.” Says the largest of the shadows, who by each blink gets a form, colours, a massive body comes in sight, a creepy smile. The long heated knife is in the man’s hands. “How long indeed.”

Sanji pants, already feeling exhausted, tired, too tired. He doesn’t like how suddenly his body relaxes, how an inner heat makes him feel comfortable. His visions gets clearer, his mind is wide awake, yet he feels drowsier and heavier.

“We can’t have you fainting on us again, kid.” The man says. Again? “Ever heard of Smack? H? Horse?” Sanji tilts his head back and forth in a “no”, even though he doesn’t want to answer. The man’s smile grows, as he leans in close and forces his eyes to open further up. “The pupils’ already constricted.” He notes happily “Already feeling your mental functioning clouding? Drowsy? Respiratory depression? Euphoric? Feeling that wonderful rush? I always make sure that my specimens gets the clearest of what there exist.”

“What, you’ve…giv’n me?” Sanji slurs, hating the mixed feelings of feeling good and awful, His mouth feels dry, he tries to work his jaw, his tongue to wet it, no help. 

“Heroin.” The man answers simply, Sanji barely feels as the rubber band gets removed. It takes a couple of seconds before his drowsy mind can comprehend what the man even is saying. Eyes widening as the horror finally dwells. The orange haired man smirks. “The purest and finest quality at the market, and in a perfect dose. Starting to like it?”

“Fuchk… ouff.” He groans, tilting his head away. A firm grip forces him to look the man dead in his eyes. There’s something different about them, something inhuman, something… familiar.

Nails, sharp as claws, drags up along his side, ripping, scratching, tearing the skin, it feels awful, it feels horrible good. He’s turned on and he hates the feelings firing up inside of him. He can’t move, he hasn’t even realised the men letting go of him. He can feel the heat emitting from the heated blade, he’s petrified of what the man has in mind with that one. 

Crawling on top of him, Sanji feels the scrubbed tongue of the man run up along his chest, licking, shar teeth biting, pulling and kissing. He likes it and hates it. A moan threatens to bubble out of his throat. He clenches his fists tight, his body trembled, betraying him. He tries to get the growing arouse out of his head, and looks everywhere to get his mind on something else. 

There’s a mirror beside them, he barely recognises himself, the fear painted in his face, as if his body remembers something his mind yet can’t grasp around. He’s on a table. He’s pale, dirty, bloodied, especially down south. Especially his legs, his feet, both feet.

“Like what you’re seeing?” The man asks in a rumbling voice… no… not man… not any longer… tiger! 

“My feet.” Sanji comments horrified. The skin is partly gone, shredded, ripped. He vaguely remembers about a whip, the feeling of it gracing his skin, tearing it. 

Sanji inhales sharply as he slowly remembers the pain, the tears, the screams, before falling into a world of darkness. 

“I don’t feel… What have you done to my feet…?”

His legs get forced further apart. He can feel the growing tremble crawling underneath the skin.

“Remember me now, kid?” the tiger growls mockingly satisfied. 

Sanji feels the cold dread taking hold of him, feels the heat emit from the knife, as it nears his skin, nears his legs, his thighs, almost burning his manhood – wait, wait, wait, wait! What the fuck is he going to do with that one?! He tries to pull away, but his body is almost fully immobile. It goes further, search further, the heat emitting is burning his lower regions.

He can’t help the growing trembling, the cold sweat building and the drying mouth.

No. no… no… no…!

“W-what are you…?”

“Shall we continue from where we left?” 

The pain is beyond of what he has ever felt before, as the round formed knife stabs up into his rear, cutting and burning, forcing its way further up. Sanji screams, he can’t help it, the pain is too inhuman. It’s burning, cutting, melting, burning. He’ll burn up from the inside.

God, help! Help!

And then, only then, he remembers it all too well again… unfortunately.

 

~To be continued~


	2. Drunken Photos

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
I don’t mind many things  
But there are lines there shouldn’t be crossed.  
You’ve just crossed mine.  
Grow up, Kid!  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

Chapter 2  
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Drunken Photos   
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 

Heavy clouds above Bandon City threatened to release its cold shower, as a strong wind blew through the streets and left shaking bodies and clasping teeth behind it. Zoro mere trembles just by the sight of it as he stands at his room’s only window, and thanks the sea-witch for once to lay money into a tavern there won’t threaten to collapse in on itself by a single blow from the wind. Zoro reconsiders if Nami is feeling well or if she might be coming down with something – they’d even got a room each! 

A knock on the door pulls him out of his thoughts and he grumbles a “What?” in response. The door opens and reveals the person his thoughts just had been about. “What do you want?” he snaps at her, the smile on her lips indicating that she’s up to something.

“Na~, nothing special, Zoro-kun,” Zoro raises his brow by the nickname. “Just wanted to give you a little visit, that’s all.”

“Don’t believe you.” The swordsman says in a flat tone.

“Aww… you always so suspicious, Zoro~!” she says seductively.

“What?” Zoro commands angrily, he is far from in the mood for her small games. Nami hums. This couldn’t be good.

“You still got that wonderful pocket watch that you got from Old Maggiton?”

“I fucking knew that you where up to something!” The first mate groans, clasping his hand to the temple.

“Can I have a look at it again?” She gave off her most innocent look, though it didn’t work a bit on the swordsman.

“Hell no!! You’ll just take it and sell it to get the cash for yourself!”

Nami hufs offended. “Zoro, we need to pay for the rooms, and that pocket watch is the only solution!” she says matter-of-factly. Zoro blinks.

“Huh?”

“You didn’t believe that I could effort my own money into such an expensive tavern, now did you?”

Zoro literally drops his jaw. “WHAT?!!”

“So, hand it over, else we’ll be kicked out the next thing in the morning and with a bill on our heads, and maybe even the marines as well. And you don’t want that to happen, now do you?” All that sweetness was suddenly gone and switched out with that usual demanding voice of hers, as she moved a hand up to indicate that he should hand it over immediately. 

Zoro groaned and after staring at her didn’t make her flinch or give up, he had to. The hell, he doesn’t even like that kind of things, but he couldn’t say “no” after reserving it as a thank-you-gift from the major at the last island, from saving their ‘Golden’-city from the Frog-pirates - honestly, what kind of name was that? Since then, Nami had literally been all over him to get her fingers in that watch. He knew that these tavern-rooms had been too good to be true, and he knew that she did have enough money to pay for it… she was just too greedy. That… woman had planned it all out from the beginning.

Nami squealed in pure glee as he tossed it over to her, and even went so far to kiss him on both of his cheeks, before she kissed the shining golden, diamond covered pocket watch. Rolling his eyes at her, he dried his cheeks clean. That woman would marry gold, if she could.

“By the way… Zoro…” The tone of her voice suddenly changes, as she looks up from her inspection of the watch. “Have you… been talking to him yet? You know, about that?”

Zoro leans back against the wall and now watches the life of the townspeople outside the window once again. Sighing heavily, he crosses his arms. “No, not yet,” he says without looking back at her. “But I left him a note, so he should be here as soon as he wakes up.”

“You… tell him about that, right?”

Zoro scratches his neck frustratingly. “Look I told ‘ya that I don’t li-”

“It’s for his own good!” the red-haired navigator interrupts with a sharp look. “And besides; I don’t want Luffy to get mixed in all of this… it’s enough that the half of the town knows it. It’s the only way-”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll tell him.” The swordsman sighs in defeat. Nami pulls a calm smile.

“Thanks Zoro.” With that, she turns to leave. As she’s about to open the door, the door opens by it’s own and in comes a very drained looking blond cook, even though wearing his usual black suit, he still reminded him of a vagabond. No wonder after what happened yesterday

“Ah! Good morning Nami-san,” the cook croaks, and gifts her a tired smile. Nami pulls a nervous smile.

“Morning Sanji-kun,” She looks past him, indicating that she wants to get out. The blonde chef gets her point and steps aside and holds the door for her. Zoro narrows an eye at that. “Th-thank you, Sanji-kun.”

“Always a pleasure, my wonderful morning-flower,” he says with a light bow. Nami gives a half-hearted laugh and hurries down the corridors, into her own room. Sanji looks quizzically after her and shakes his head as he closes the door.

Pushing his hands into his pockets, Sanji leanes up against the closed door as he surveys Zoro’s room. 

“Not smoking today?” Zoro notes. Sanji shrugs. 

“Can’t find them anywhere… must have smoked them all last night, damn it.” He makes a stretch and yawns. “Shit. That party last night, I think I drank a bit over the fence, I don’t remember a speck of it.” Sanji shifts his weight onto his other leg. “You wanted to talk, Marimo?” 

Zoro nods and pushes away from the windowsill. The chef keeps a tired eye at him as he moves to the office table and opens the second drawer to pull out the photos, he hammers the drawer shut, making the cook wince at the loud bang, and throws the photos onto the table.

The flinch the cook made, as he gave him the look, felt somehow satisfying. “Your performance last night was not acceptable, Sanji!” Zoro starts, and he knows, that the cook knows, that he’s not happy when starting to use his first name.

“What do you mean about my ‘performance last night’? Wanna try to make yourself a bit clearer?” the blond asks and motions his hand out to the table. “And what the hell are all those pictures for?” 

Zoro’s stern look didn’t disappear and Sanji merely raised a brow at him, with a what the fuck-look. Zoro looks at the pictures, an indicating for the cook to come over. It takes some time, as if the cook could lean over and see them all from where he stood, but as he came closer, as Zoro spread all the pictures out to be seen, his eyes, or eye, widened in both fear and shock. “What the…?!”

“Your behaviour was shameful, embarrassing and not acceptable, Sanji!” Zoro says with a low, serious calm voice. Sanji picks up one of the pictures and his hand even starts to tremble.

“This… this must be some kind of manipulation. Damn it, Zoro, I would never act like that! You know that!” The blond defends, his trembling hands telling him off that he’s getting nervous as shit. Zoro says nothing as he leans over the table to pick up another photo and turns it so the cook could see. It was a picture of Sanji dancing half naked in a seductive dance, shirt half pulled off, right in front of him, drinking. Zoro observes the blond’s reactions, sees how he pales, how he has to grab the table to his balance, before pulling out a chair to sit.

“I’m sorry, but this is no ‘manipulation’.” The swordsman says a bit calmer, but still with a hint of seriousness and anger hidden in his words. “The pictures are true… we all can testify to that.”

“Then Nami-san…?” he says in utter horror, now understanding why she felt so uncomfortable around him. “Don’t tell me, have I done-?” His hands are trembling even more, the thought alone of harming that woman is an unforgiveable sin, especially in the cook’s book.

“You embarrassed her in front of everyone in the bar,” Zoro tells “and after ‘flirting’ around with her and telling her how nice her ass was, you even tried to go that step further, right in the middle of the bar… against her own will!”

“No…” the blond says, despondently, the look of utter horror. He hides his face in his hands, golden bangs covering every piece of his face. “Zoro,” he says weakly, “you know that I normally wouldn’t act like that… you all know that… don’t you?” 

Zoro hesitates, but slides the next photo to him, he knows, they all knows this isn’t the cook’s normal behaviour, and the man looks very close to his breaking point. But he has to know what he’s done, he can’t remember shit about it, it’s clearly, yet it’s as if the pictures is pushing to those memories again. But Sanji refuses to look anymore at them. 

“Look at them,” Zoro says, but Sanji refuses. “I said: ‘LOOK AT THEM’!” The chef sighs and looks miserably back at the pictures before him, pictures of the cook starting to pull Nami’s clothes off when she was trying to pull away from him; her face coloured in clear fear. Realisation hits him.

“She… told me to stop…”

“So you remember now?”

Zoro throws the next picture in front of him; the cook and their captain dancing on the table, the kid just as drunk, though Luffy only thought it was fun and games, while Sanji looked ready to eat him alive. The next picture was of the cook grapping the teen’s head and licking his lips lustfully. Next picture: Their tongues ‘playing’ visibly with each other. Next picture: They both sat at a table, both clothes on and both looking more sober than they were at the previous pictures… they were laughing, arms around each shoulders; a ‘harmless’ picture you could say. The next one showed how the cook forced a whole bottle of alcohol down the teen’s throat; laughing like a mad man. The next picture the cook once again looks away.

Zoro smacks a hand onto the table, making the other jump in his seat.

“Look at them!” he says dangerously and literally throws another picture in the cook’s face. Tears is threatening to fall, he can see the glimpse of them in his visible eye. Sanji picks up the picture there showed how he slowly was about to pull the unconscious raven-haired teen’s boxers off. Zoro himself was seeing stomping angrily up to them, pulling his one katana, Franky trying to stop him. He remembers it clearly. He’s never had this much urge to hurt the cook, ready to run his katana right through him.

Sanji gnaws on his lips, as one hellish photo after another comes in front of him. As he tried seducing a red-haired woman, as he made foolish out of himself more than once, and, especially these ones, even made Zoro hesitate to show, debating, he threw them in front of the cook, who’s reaction was puzzled. The picture was of the cook, half naked sitting on Zoro’s lap, arms slung around his neck, sliding his crotch up against his lower parts, damn, even at the picture the blush is visible. He hurried to throw the last picture to cover it, before the cook could take a closer look. It was of Sanji laying in a corner, touching his beaten up face and Zoro standing over him with both of his katanas, both Franky and Brook trying to hold him back. Sanji winced at the picture, touching his face in return where a nice black eye hid under the bangs of blond hair.

“Luffy past out short time after your little ‘dance’ on the tables,” Zoro informs, his voice fighting to keep himself under control “so he doesn’t remember what happened that night... that’s what he said when he woke up half an hour ago and ran out to ‘try feeling the wind’. He might still be a bit drunk and have some hangover, but he wouldn’t lie about such a thing. Usopp’s on the ship with Chopper, so they didn’t see any of this. Robin was out taking some air and only came back to find Brook and Franky trying to stop me from killing you.” The word ‘killing’ made the cook shiver, as if the word alone could do its job. 

Sanji just sat there, staring in utter shock and disgust, at his owns actions, ashamed. Good.

“Sanji,” Zoro says sternly, and he waits until Sanji looks at him. “Those of us who knows about this have chosen not to tell the captain about it.” 

Sanji chews on his bottom lip. “…but…?” 

“But!” Zoro underlins with a pointed finger. “You are not allowed to have any kind of alcohol, before every single one of us is feeling comfortable enough to be around you again. If you don’t follow this rule…” Zoro watches him move insecure in his seat, he knows the consequences, he doesn’t even need to say it, but the words needs out. “you will no longer be a part of the Strawhats!”

Yet as he says it, the words comes as a shock for the cook. “What? What are you saying? The hell? I did a mistake, yes, but you just can’t-”

“It’s, an, order, of the first mate!” Zoro says through clenched teeth. Sanji doesn’t answer, he’s too shocked, were still trying to comprehend it all. “Do you understand?” Sanji doesn’t react, not before he has pulled his katana and presses the blade to the man’s throat. He looks up, looking rather lost, scared and yet accepting his faith, if Zoro should follow his thread through. It pisses him off.

“Sorry, what?” Sanji asks hoarsely.

“I said; do you understand?” Zoro repeats.

“No alcohol, or else, out?” Sanji asks to make sure, keeping himself from swallowing. Zoro nods. “Yes, I understand, clearly.” Zoro withdraws his blade and gets closer to him. 

“Get up.” 

Sanji looks quizzingly up at him. “Why the fuck-” Zoro grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him off the chair. “Shit, okay okay, I’m up, damn it!”

“Don’t play around with me more than once! When I tell you to do something, you do it! Understood, Cook?” Zoro hisses. Sanji stares at him in surprise, no wonder, he hates to pull that card and never orders anyone to do something, unless, he’s as pissed as he is now. The blond nods slowly. He slams him against the window behind him, with such force that the man yelps in pain from the sharp edge of the windowsill. The glass creaks dangerously, Sanji looks out through the window. He knows that the cook knows that he only needs one hard push to find himself soaring towards the walk outside this building. He releases the shirt and instead grabs his throat, to make his point through. Sanji grabs his fingers, trying to pray them off.

“Ye-Yes! God dammed! I said I understood, shit-head!” he coughs as Zoro tightens the grip, shakes him and forces the idiot to look him into his eyes. “Listen you buffo -”

“You forced our captain to drink something he didn’t want to drink,” He cuts him off, closing his fist even more around the neck, ignoring the lame attempt of loosening his grasp, it’ll definitely leave a mark tomorrow. “You seduced him and tried to get into his pants! You tried to get into Nami’s pants against her will! You know what that’s called?” Sanji gags, probably having trouble breathing. “That’s rape!” Zoro hisses in disgust, what makes the blond still. Now he seems to finally grasp the whole ideal of the problem. “You ruined our reputation and,” He has to restrain himself from breaking the fine neck, Sanji gasping for air, trembling fingers begging him to release. His visible eye starting to unfocus. He has to calm the fucking down, before killing the damn idiot for his senseless behaviour.

“Zho…ro…” he wheezes, feet frantically scraping against the wall behind him as Zoro lifted him even higher up. “I… I can’t…. br… breathe…! Argh!” 

Zoro leans in close. “…and, you made a complete fucking fool out of me right in front of everyone else as well. You get what I’m saying, cook?”

Sanji nods weakly. Satisfied, Zoro throws him aside, watching as he crashes against the bookshelf at the other side of the room. Coughing violently, Sanji had problems gaining his balance to get back up on his feet. Zoro doesn’t like the next thing he’s going to say, but he’d agreed to it, and he was a man of his word. This is for the best for the both of them. Zoro steps up to the wheezing coughing blond, arms crossed and readies himself for the final blow. It’s for the best, they’d agreed, he'd promised it. 

“And a third thing,” he finally says, clicking his tongue, the cook literally flinches at the sound of his voice, had he gone too far, is he going too far now? Zoro gnashes his teeth. “Keep your hands away from my fiancé!” 

“Wha, what…?” the blond croaks, grabbing his throat.

“Keep away from Nami!” 

The reaction is more than he predicted; utterly lost of words, before grasping what he just said is no joke. The look he gives him, makes his heart sink into the muddy deep.

“Ho…how-”

“How long?” Zoro helps. Sanji nods slowly and Zoro forces a smirk “Since last month. Concentrate on your surrounding and listen to what people says, then you’d heard it.” 

He doesn’t like how the blond looks at him and then goes to just stare blindly into the room, he can almost hear the blond’s world shatter. It hurts to look at.

“Why… why didn’t you… kill me when… I tried to… when I almost,” he stammers, but can’t finish the last words.

“Rape her?” Zoro finishes, making the blond flinch. Sanji hesitates, but nods. “Because I was stopped, as you could see.” He says in a matter of fact, the words seemingly stabbing him in the heart. Zoro pulls Wadou, resting the cold steel against the other’s throat. “Want me to end it now?” All what he need is the chef’s deadly glare, before he sheets his katana back into her hilt with a smirk. “Good. Never let your soul shatter just because of a woman.”

“Fuck you, moss-head!” Sanji says with a hoarse voice. Zoro chuckles and leaves the blond to his own thoughts, but as soon the door’s closed, it drops into a serious expression. He’d thought about it all morning and half of the afternoon, even the others said the same: the cook was no harasser, no matter how drunk he became, overly friendly, sure, but not like this. Then the question’s just; what the fuck happened for the cook to act like that? 

A loud bang and a frustrated roar is heard behind the closed door.

It takes some time before the blond leaves his room. Resting in a corner, Sanji doesn’t see him as he passes by, hand resting on his head while mumbling something incoherent. A couple of men, guests from the previous night’s party, rounds the corner from the direction the cook came from, and immediately recognizes him. 

“Oh~! If it isn’t the dancer from last night?” the largest of them snickers. Sanji obviously ignores the comment and walks faster. As a hand stops him and slams him against the wall, Zoro watches closely. When the cook is in a foul mood, he’s not to be played with. No matter how freakng tall they were. “Wanna dance for me tonight, beauty?”

If the giant didn’t know what pain was, he defiantly learned it, after the blond danced him right into a one-way-ticket to the hospitals ICU.

 

~To be continued~


	3. A Drop of Dangerous Lust

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
What happened to me?  
Where am I?  
Why…  
Why didn’t I for once listen to what he said?  
Just for once?  
God, I’m such a damn fucking fool!  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

3\. Chapter   
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A Drop of Dangerous Lust  
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Hey Whoa! What the fuck? Stop freaking touching my ass all the time, grass-head!” The chair falls as Sanji stands up abruptly, glaring down at the swordsman. Zoro almost choking on his alcohol, and almost smashes both the table and the bottle in the process.

“I’ve fucking told you, I, did, not, you pervert-cook!” he yells back as he too stands up, the chair screeching against the wooden floor. The other guests in the bar has silenced and are watching them with annoyance and worries.

“Whom you calling a pervert? Pervert! If you can’t be honest, I’m damn hell gonna-”

“Zoro, Sanji, stop!” Nami cuts in angrily, halting Sanji immediately from kicking the marimo’s ass, as she glares especially at him. “We are leaving now,” She points at the two of them “and if you’re not back at tomorrow morning you both can stay here the rest of your life, got that?” 

“Of course, Nami-san.” Sanji says carefully, adding a little supporting smile, though the uncomfortable look she gives in return, burns the smile away immediately, Sanji almost crawls back to his seat, though still sending an ominous glare to the swordsman, who hasn’t faltered in his stand the slightest.

Nami sighs and pulls Luffy along, who complains about the fight to end that quickly. Usopp hurries to drag their captain along and tells him about that time when he saved a young maiden from the terrible giant frog… before a third fight actually will start with them all unnecessarily dragged into it. As they left, the two of them stares heated at each other.

“I. Didn’t. Touch. You!” the swordsman underlines through gritted teeth. Sanji points dangerously at him.

“One, just one more time, and I’m fucking goanna kick your sorry ass until you won’t even be able to sit on it! Got that, Marimo?”

“Yeah, yeah, what ever,” the elder teen says and has already slumped back into his chair with a mug to his mouth. Sanji glares at him one more time, before looking down at the sadly remains of his spilled milk. Damn it. A bottle of cola is placed right in front of him. He looks up to be greeted with a supportive smile from their shipwright.

“Thought you might wanna cool down on this one, bro!” he says. “I’m leaving with the others. You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, thanks Franky.” Sanji gives a smile in return. Franky nods.

“Okay then, see ya guys!”

Sanji throws a hand up, simultaneously as the swordsman lifts his bottle in gesture, and sips the cold cola. Not bad. Then they both fall back into silence, just enjoying each of their own drinks. 

Sanji almost chokes on the cola, as a hand sneaks underneath the table and this time touches his crouch. Having enough of it, Sanji rises and kicks with no warning the green-haired bastard with his beer out of his seat, crashing into another table. 

A woman shrieks, men runs out of their way. Someone calls for the manager’s help.

“The hell, cook?!” Zoro says both surprised and pissed off as hell, as he gets up from the splintered table and chairs, stomping back to him. “I was just finishing my drink!” Sanji bumps head with the other, the moment he comes close enough.

“Stop fucking touch me all the time, you damn pervert!” Sanji hisses as he points a sharp finger into the other’s chest, anger boiling inside of him. Zoro grunts and presses his head back against his, dark orbs piercing through icy blues.

“I wouldn't even want to touch someone like you anyways with a fire poker!” he grumbles back and gets ready to fight. 

Sanji halts, somehow that blow hit harder than he thought possible. He steps back, grabs his cola and finishes it at once. He slams it hard onto the table and gives it such a hard kick that it splinters against the wall at the other side of the bar, just barely whistling past the swordsman, who doesn’t even flinch. Another woman cries in fear, a man roars at him to get the fuck out of here, ignoring his hushing companion. Fits him well. He doesn’t wanna stay here any longer.

The chef sends the swordsman a last glare before he stomps out of the tavern, leaving things as they are. If that shitty marimo wants to touch anyone’s asses, he damn hell could find himself a whore or go back to Nami… oh god, Nami. 

Sanji halts and looks at his shoes. His dearest Nami-swan… the hell had he done? Because of his disgusting behaviour last night, he was no longer allowed near her, she couldn’t feel comfortable in his presence, no wonder. And now… now she even belonged to someone else. He still can’t comprehend the thought of why she chose the marimo instead of him. All what he had done for her - God must hate him a lot. Things defiantly can’t get any worse than it is now. 

Sighing in frustration, Sanji runs a hand through his hair. Something cold hits his hand. He looks up and another drop hits him in the middle of his face. “Great,” he spits out sarcastically and starts walking again, faster. But go where? He doesn’t really feel like wanting to return back to the ship just yet, having many days before him to be trapped at that ship with his shipmates, gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his abdomen, that he hadn’t felt before. He didn’t want to be anywhere near them just yet. The captain’s carefree behaviour gave him a worse taste in the mouth. Though he was glad that none of the others had said anything to their captain, he still had a bad feeling for not letting the captain in on what happened. He knew the consequences, he knew what could, no, would happen. Even for Luffy there had to be limits. Who’d believe him if he said he suspected his drink to be spiced yesterday? And then the question would be; by who? Before they’d even get an idea of it, the person could be far out on the sea.

The fuck should he do?

His black leather-shoes echoes down the empty streets, the old, dirty worn-down houses feel as if hungry demons are watching him. Sanji pats himself down, searching for his cigarettes, and when he finds them, the drizzle is now a full rain shower. He drops the packet back into his pocket with a curse, irritatingly kicks a stone away, as he searches for a temporarily shelter.

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD--

“What is it now, Luffy?” Nami complains, as she catches their captain suddenly faltering behind, to suddenly stop.

“Is something wrong, Captain-san?” Robin asks as she catches the glimpse of concern in the teen’s eyes.

“Yeah.” Is all he says, and furrows his brows, as if he tries to comprehend what it could be. Nami rolls her eyes at him.

“They’ll just fight each other again, break down the tavern and then come running back to us with half of the town behind them… like always.” Their navigator says in a matter of fact, and pulls their captain along with her.

“Hey!”

“If we won’t get back to the ship in time, my clothes will be ruined and you’ll be the one paying for it all!” Nami warns. Luffy pouts and protests hard, as she keeps pulling him with a “go go, move it!” 

But Robin hasn’t let go of the feeling, that something might be wrong. “Something wrong, sis?” Franky asks, as he catches her not moving along with the others. “Oi, Robin?”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t have left them that early again,” she then says, making the cyborg lift his sunglasses up to really look at her. “Something does feel off!”

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD--

“Shiiit… what is this?” Sanji tumbles into a nearby wall again, but this time stays. The rough surface feels pleasantly cool. Loosening his tie, opening some of the buttons of his jacket and shirt, he almost rips the rest up impatiently. He feels as if he’s about to burn up, even the rain can’t cool him, he wants to stand flat against the wall, naked. He has to get back to the ship as soon as possible, has to get to Chopper, because something is definitely wrong with him. Pushing off, he moves with a hand following the wall, just for safety, because even his legs suddenly doesn’t feel sturdy. 

He has a feeling of being watched. 

Looking over his shoulder he sees the group obviously following him from the shadows, not even sad that they’d been spotted. They’re waiting for something. 

Quickening his pace, Sanji hurries down an alley, mapping out what direction he instead can take down to the harbour. Though it doesn’t take long before he comes to a dead end. He looks back. He can hear their lazy pace, their humorous talking, but yet not see them. He leaps and jumps and almost tumbles over the wall, there ends up with him landing ungracefully on his feet. Not good. What the heck is wrong with him?

It’s pouring down now, making it barely possible to see the one building out from the other, even the streets are indifferent. Is he lost? Had the damn Marimo infected him with his bad sense of direction? Rubbing his eyes makes no different.

A sudden pain in his abdomen makes him stop, a twinge makes him crunch over himself. No no no no! the hell is going on? Forcing himself to stretch out of the uncomfortable pain, something snaps inside of him, a heated feeling leaks from his abdomen and down to his southernmost regions, where it blooms.

As the feeling hits, as he runs his hand over his pants, he feels the growing, feels the lust for more touch, the realisation hits him harder.

His drink has been spiced with some kind of an aphrodisiac, and those men behind him wasn’t passing down the same streets as him by coincidence. 

When? And how?

The marimo had told the truth, hadn’t he? Was it then? It was the only time he’d been unaware of his drink.

Sanji runs, but having a growing part hanging between his legs and a growing lust burning his insides, it’s almost impossible. He has heard of these kinds of drugs before, about drug gangs spicing their victims drink when the person least expects it, follows them through the streets to either beat them up and steal their belongings, or use them. 

Moaning at the uncomfortable growing lust almost making it impossible to make the next jump over the wall, Sanji curses at himself for letting his eyes off his drink for just a second.

He shouldn’t had lost his temper… now he could lose something else, beside his manly pride, if he didn’t get to their ship damn hell soon!

Another overwhelming feeling makes him halt. He can’t… he can’t move his feet, he can’t will his body to move. Every cell in him is trembling, his heart racing. He tries again, but to no use. Fuck. Fuck! 

“Looks like the drug I slipped in your drink works perfectly this time,” a voice says before him. Sanji looks up, the group there had been following him stands before him, slowly surrounding him. Five, six, seven… ten, eleven, fifteen. Shit! The group steps aside to reveal an orange-haired smirking man. “Though, it was an interesting performance what infected alcohol can do, I’ll remember that till the next time.” 

He recognizes the man from the tavern, fuzzily. Same body shape as the marimo, but with a flaming orange hair instead. The man steps up to him and Sanji tries to will his legs to move, but it’s as if they’re rooted to the ground. Shitty, damn, fucking, bloody hell luck! 

“I knew it.” Sanji croaks hoarsely. Clearing his throat, eyes flickering around trying to find a way out of this mess. Finally his foot slides trembling back, a step! Then tries the other foot, a step, another step and another step, but not near fast enough. The man stops a couple of feet before him, smirking satisfied.

“Of course you did,” he says “You’re a smart kid.” 

“Fuck you, shit-head!” 

Said shit-head chuckles. “No, fuck, you.” 

The men move fast, even though he tries to defend himself, they’re over him in no time and he’s tossed to the ground, pinned by several arm. Sanji tosses in their hold and curses.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t you fucking dare! Get your dirty hands off me!” his spits and tries to kick them. 

The orange-haired shithead smiles at him like a freaking kid on Christmas Eve, while the men fight to hold him still. “How are we feeling tonight, Mr. Black Leg? Weird? Hot? Aroused?”

“Shut the fuck up, you damn perverted shit-head!” 

“Ah, the wounded fox is still biting, huh?” The group chuckles. Sanji’s furious. “How wonderful… Looks like I gave you the right dose this time. Though, I had hoped for Roronoa, it would have been fun to see that green-haired swordsman crumple under my touch, but after your little… performance last night, I thank whatever luck for that you mistook your jug from his.” A spit hits spot on his left eye. Sanji smirks satisfied, while he tries to pull himself free. The action though costs him a kick to his abdomen and his head. 

The orange-haired man dries off the spit on Sanji’s chin and looks him dead in the eye.

“Undress him.”

“No, no! Get your fucking, dirty hands… away from me!” Sanji screams, willing his body to defend itself, but he can’t move, he’s trembling, with pity lust. He roars, tries to even bite whomever comes too close. His shoes are gone, then his denims are gone. Buttons flies as they tear open his shirt – fuck, it was his favourite! “Don’t touch me!!” The men laugh at him, as he struggles to get free, but has no strength to it, and rips off his briefers and soon he’s nothing put in his torn blue shirt, there is twisted above his head and successfully traps his arms above his head. Heart racing, he doesn’t have to look down at himself to know how hard he is. 

“Whow, what a needy bitch.” One of the men comments. Sanji jolts in their hold, trying to get free, but has no energy left. He feels hot, almost burning from the inside out, even the rain falling on his heated skin feels arousing.

The leader licks his lips as he looks hungrily down at him and loosens his own belt. “Now, Mr. Black Leg, starts the real fun… for us!” The men forces his legs apart, with such ease and little restrain that it even surprises him, revealing everything for the leader before him, and holds him there. Pants falls to the ground, together with a dirty T-shirt. Sanji tries to glare, doesn’t want to show his growing panic, as the man before him suddenly transforms, dark skin turns into an orange and black striped fur, the human appearance disappears, and soon two large paws-looking-hands lands at each side of his head.

A large nose sniffs to his hair, before a large smirk reveals rows of long sharp teeth. “You can’t hide your fear, Black Leg,” the creature chuckles “you reek of it, that and,” He sniffs again, Sanji turn his face away “lust. What a beautiful tasty combination.” He purrs.

“Shut, the fuck, up, you shitty, faggot!” 

The tiger-man says nothing as he gets up, grabs Sanji’s leg and spreads them even further apart, long nails digging into his tighs - he can’t say if it hurts or feels good. Flinching, Sanji gasps as the nails dig deeper through his skin, he could have screamed but refuses them to have the satisfaction. He literally can see his naked self in the reflection of the creatures yellow-dark eyes. 

“Cat Cat-fruit, model: Tiger!” informs the tiger-man, before leaning closer and licks the cold sweat away from his temple and neck, humming by the taste. 

“T-tiger,” Sanji repeats in disbelieve. It feels like a spasm as he tries to pull himself free. The tiger-man shoots forward, and Sanji has to bite his lips from screaming, as long sharp teeth sunk into his shoulder. A rough tongue runs over the bleeding wound, the tiger-man hums, licking his bloody lips. 

“Lovely.” The inhuman smile widens, as the man readies himself. Sanji pulls, more aggressive, but he can’t get free – the men laughs at his attempt and roars up in mock, as Sanji screams in sudden pain, as the inhuman large length spears right into him in one hard thrust – he can take torture, bloodied painful fights, but this pain, the feeling of being split open from the inside by hard pressure, is unfamiliar horrible. Worst of all, he liked it. He liked the continuously hard thrust inside of him, hot slicked skin merciless prodding at his prostate, the bites on his skin, the feeling of the sharp nails. It’s the drug, he knows that. The more he got, the more his body, no, the drug craved. 

Another painful cry mixed with lust made its way out his throat, and soon he came, hard, but that didn’t make the creature stop, on the contrary. The men had pulled away and now sat back, watching, waiting for something. 

Nails grabs hold of his hips, lifted him slightly from the ground and, if possible, slammed even harder and faster into him. Sanji’s head bangs against the asphalt as he feels himself grow hard again, he shut his eyes and forces himself to think of something else, but it’s nearly impossible to the grunting growling sounds of the human tiger, and the constant slamming inside of him, breaking the slick skin in his ass. 

A memory, barely 24 hours old comes to his mind.

“Can’t take the heavy stuff, cook?” Zoro. Of all the people, he’s the first to enter his mind. The man had laughed heartedly amused as Sanji coughed, mistaken his own jug of beer with the marimo’s jug of strong whiskey. Sanji had glared at him, cursed him and said that, of course he could, if a shithead as the buffalo-marimo could handle it, then he as hell could as well. Then he had tugged it all down in one go, ignoring the burning in his throat. “I’m impressed.” He’d said, as Sanji hammered an empty jug on the table “You’re not a pathetic lightweight after all.”

Nails claws down his legs, pulling him out of his thoughts. He came again, hard. Taking in shaking breaths, he could cry as he feels himself grow hard again, instead a sob makes its way through, before he howls in pain as the pace quickens, the angle changes and the tiger-man drive in harder. He’s dry inside, the feeling is like rapid use of sandpaper scraping against his oversensitive skin. His joints are creaking, his bones close to breaking.

Somewhat he’s glad that he mistook their jugs, not even the marimo should be exposed to something like this. What had that idiot done to attract the wrath of a sadistic sex-mad psycho like this? Why did the fucker want Zoro of all?

The third time Sanji cum, he’s too exhausted to even breathing, and just as he grows hard again, the tiger-shit finally comes as well, the cold liquid stings. As the pressure inside of him subsides, Sanji groans in relief and hopes that was it, that they’d leave him to his misery self and drown in his own embarrassment in the cold unforgiving rain. He should never had left that tavern on his own. 

“He’s all yours, boys. Do as you please!” The tiger-man growls with a satisfied smirk, while turning back to his human self.

No. No. No!!

“Zoro.” He chokes in a whisper, wishing for soon to wake up from this hellish nightmare, as the next in the line opens his belt. A tear runs from his eye. “Help…!”

 

~To be continued~


	4. Wishing for God to end it all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the nightmare begins...

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
Disappearing slowly from myself,  
I don’t know if I rather would die  
Than stay alive…  
Why does my mind only think about you?  
When you’re the one who stole  
My life and my angel?  
Please, let me die…  
Please let me die from this world…!  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

4\. Chapter   
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
Wishing for God to end it all  
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 

Zoro looks deeply into his bottle of grog as he realizes that he must be rather drunk, since he can’t stop thinking of that shitty cook, who left in a whirl storm of anger and disaster. A feeling that something about the whole picture was wrong. Of course the cook would never act like he did yesterday, because of a bit too much to drink. He just can’t wrap his mind around what then could have done it. Drugs? The cook? Never! Emptying his twentieth bottle, Zoro stares at the twisted reflection of himself scowling back at him from the bottle, before standing and throwing the amount he owed the bartender. It’s time to get back to the ship and get a good night of sleep. He wants no more than to forget this godforsaken island and its stupid memories. The pouring rain made his mood no better.

Grey rainclouds hid the moon, it was dark, almost black, the only source of light came from the few streetlamps down the main road. If someone hid in an alley, no one would be able to tell. Yawning, he stretches and stomps down the streets. It didn’t take long before the ship is in sight. Well, that’s weird. Wasn’t the harbour further away? Either there’s two harbours and they’ve moved the ship, or something is really wrong. Zoro scratches the back of his neck. Or maybe he’s just putting too much into it. Damn it! That blondie must’ve infected him with something!

Yet, making it to a run to get in shelter as soon as possible, he can’t shake that gnawing bad feeling off him that something is wrong.

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD--

“Is he dead?” someone prods a foot to his head again. Sanji keeps his eyes close, hopes they’ll buy their own stupidity and leave him for gods sake alone. He can’t take anymore. Another kick hits him in the coccyx, hard, pulling a groan out of him. Shit.

“No, he’s alive.” Another one says amused. 

“Waiki - waiki, little child~!” another kick, another slap in the face, a punch and a kick more, but he refuses to wake. They’ve got what they wanted, isn’t that enough? “Time to open your pretty eyes, little fucker~!” A groan escapes his throat as the prods and kicks and slaps becomes harder, the noise scratching violently his throat. 

“If you can’t wake him, then let me handle it!” Someone suddenly grabs his manhood and squeezes it hard. Sanji’s eyes immediately fly open, a choked gasp comes out. Blinking, he tries get the faces in front of him in focus, but squeezes them back shut as the hand strokes him faster. Moaning, his hips bucks up. ‘Stop moving, damn it!’ he internally screams at himself. He grabs the hand and glares at the person above him.

“Stop it…” he says, his voice hoarse. “you fucked up… piece of shit!”

The man smirks. “That’s not what your body is telling us, am I right?” He strokes hard down and Sanji has to bite his lips to keep quiet, though his hips betrayed him again. 

“Looks like he can move again?” a black-haired man says a bit worried.

“Nothing to worry about, Baldar. He has no strength in them,” His hand gets slapped off, as if it was nothing but dust on the man’s arm. Letting go of him, the man stands up, Sanji glares. The pouring rain and the darkness behind the man, makes him look more sinister as he smiles. “…none at all.” 

Baldar smirks and steps forward. “Well, then I guess it’s my turn.” 

Sanji feels a sting of panic. Hadn’t they all been through? Had he counted wrong at the beginning? Now knowing that he had got some of his strength back, he pushed away, trying to crawl away from them, ignoring the trembling pain. He could have screamed from the pain down there, from in there. 

Baldar laughs, the others as well. “What a pathetic sight to behold.”

“Fuck. Off!” He makes a move to kick him in the face, but the movement only fell fatal for himself, as it felt as if he was splitting in half. Baldar chuckles and forces him onto his back.

“I like it when there’s some fight in them. It makes it even more… interesting.”

“Sick, shit!” Sanji growls, bracing himself as he tries to kick him again. Baldar grabs his legs and pushes them all up to his chest, something tears inside of him, he gulps, jerks, but nothing more than that.

“You’re horny as hell, you little slut.” Baldar comments, sliding a sharp nail along his hard length. Sanji hisses, both liking and hating the touch. “I’m amazed that you’ve been able to hold this far.”

“Fuck off!”

“No, fuck in!” Baldar pushes inside, hard and precise, hitting him dead on. Sanji lets out a raucous noise, grabbing the man’s arms as they push both of his legs as far up as possible, and tries to push him away. “Heh! That could fucking hell shut your shitty mouth, hah?!” 

Sanji gasps, the man’s thrusts rocking his whole being. It hurt so much now that he felt sick, tears running down his heated cheeks. Everything hurt, especially inside of him, he didn’t even feel the pleasure of the drug anymore. 

It’s hard to keep his cool, to not just give in and cry like the wreck he is. How much more could he take this? He’s surprised that he has hold out this far. And when they were done with him, then what? Kill him if he wasn’t already dead? Somehow, he hoped that be the result. For the first time in many years Sanji felt helpless and alone. No one would come and search for him, defiantly not after what he had done the previous day, drugs or no drugs, and because they knew that he normally could take care of himself in a battle. No one would ever know where to find him either, if they ever tried to look for him.

He’s alone… and helpless.

It hurts to think like that, but it’s nothing new. He’d been told numerous of times in his younger days how useless he was, and all those old and new feelings brewed into a venomously gas, depriving him from any hope. The pain almost equal to the pain inside of him, as he felt the fat man above him come inside of him with a heavy groan, and pulled out of him with a disgusting sound of pop. He could feel, not only the semen, but also his own blood seep out of him, mixing itself with the rainwater underneath him, as Baldar stepped aside and yet another man took his place.

Sanji closed his eyes, waiting, wishing for all of this to soon end, surviving it or not, he just wanted this nightmare to end.

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

“Oooi!! Zorooo! Huh? Where’s Sanji?” Luffy crawls up and sits at the railing of the ship, his thin but powerful legs swinging underneath him like a twelve-year-old kid’s. Tilting his head, he looks down at his first mate who comes back alone. Zoro stops and looks up at his strawhat-wearing captain, furrowed his brows.

“He’s not here?” the swordsman calls back. The raven shakes his head, making the rain hitting his hat dance around him. “Shit.” That bad feeling kept poking at his consciousness even more than before. 

“Something wrong, Zoro?” the young captain ask.

“Yeah,” Zoro says thoughtfully, and looks at his happy-go-captain who looks worried back. “We came up in a fight again… he left earlier, so I thought that he’d returned back to the ship.”

“But that’s normal for you two,” the raven says, tilting his head to the other side.  
“Ever since I left that tavern, I’ve had a feeling that something was off…” Luffy sits quietly, feet standing still in the air, before he pushes himself off the railing and jumps, landing perfectly next to Zoro.

“I’ll help you looking for him,” he says from under the shadow of his straw-hat. “Zoro, I know what happened yesterday,” the raven informs. Zoro holds unconsciously tighter around the hilt of Wado. “You did what you were supposed to do,” the kid looks up at him, while Zoro braces himself for whatever to be thrown in his face, quite literally. “But I’m disappointed that you didn’t entrust me in this.” 

“I understand.” Is all Zoro can say, his eyes cast down in shame, his lips pulled in a tight line. 

“But I also know what’s going on in this town. Robin told us about a gang who slips drugs into peoples drinks, just to make an idiot out of them.” He knew it, he knew it couldn’t be from alcohol alone. He should have seen this earlier, and not pull that over the cook.

“I should have known.” 

“But they also use this drug for something more.”

Zoro finally looks at him “Something more?”. Luffy nods. “What more?”

“Robin wouldn’t tell me, just that we had to be careful and keep our eyes on our drinks, never leave them out of our sight.” Luffy looks worried, more worried than he ever has seen him before. He always trusted his crew, but this time, this time something else is off, and the younger teen doesn’t have to say the words what this other danger could be, it laid in the unsaid.

“And the ship?” Zoro nods in its direction. Luffy stares at him for a couple of more seconds before he turns and tilts his hat so it once again covers his face in its shadows.

“You’re taking care of it, right, Nami?” Zoro flinches and looks back up at the ship. Not many seconds later a silent arm rises from behind the railing. 

Not surprising that she heard it all, those two were close, the captain and the navigator, it was rare that they weren’t around each other, no matter how many times she complained about him.

He doesn’t have to look to know that Luffy is eyein him. Then the kid smiles and starts walking as he stretches his rubbery arms above his head. “Yosh! Let’s go find Sanji then!” A rumbling sound confirms his needing search. Zoro chuckles slightly. Leave it to the captain to brighten up the days… even on a rainy day.

 

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

Hunter.

That is the bastards name from what he could catch. Sanji glares exhausted at the leader of the group, who smiles satisfied, clearly enjoying the view as he gets kissed, licked and bitten along his jaw and down his gullet.

Sanji swallows hard, tries to create some moister in his mouth, but his throat and tongue is as dry and rough as sandpaper. He keeps his eyes on Hunter, showing him that he doesn’t care anymore, that they can’t break him, as his new partner tries to guide him into attention, tries to pull satisfied sounds out of him, but he ignores him, what finally costs him a fist to the face, bruising his lips.

“Attention here, kid.” The man says and hits him again as he keeps ignoring him and grabs his face. “Attention here, I said!”

Sanji spits, hitting right between his eyes. “There, attention.” He pants, pulling a satisfied smirk. That earns him a direct hit in the gut, not only once.

“Shitty. Nosy. Bastard!” the man growls, pointing out each word with another hit, and then goes to his face as Sanji chuckles at him. This, he can take, he’d gladly take a beating into unconsciousness to forget all that other shit. “I was trying to be gentle to you! You want it hard? Huh? Do you?” Sanji chokes as a hit from the sharp edge of the shoe hits one of his ribs from underneath and breaks it. “I’ll rough you up, you shit! I’ll freaking dry that smirk off your ugly mug!” Another kick makes him roll over, and then the man stomps on his back, harder for each time the others laughingly supports his assault. A heel hits his lower back, pulling a choked scream out of him. His scar. Even though it was a long time since that old hag of a doctor operated his back, getting a direct hit at it still hurt like hell. she’d warned him, back then, to be careful, next time he injured it, it could get fatal. Meaning; next time he could lose his ability to walk.

Finding it amusing to have found Sanji’s weak spot, the man continues to stomp right down at it, pulling out one scream after another out of him. The other men roar with laugher as Sanji finally breaks his vocals to their assault, even Hunter stands there, arms crossed, smirking satisfied. Until something snaps. Sanji howls in pain and the volume of the others increases as well. He can feel the sickening feeling when bones break or as something gets re-allocated inside of him.

Someone is watching them.

He senses it a bit belated, as his eyes falls upon a young woman, a hand to her mouth, while her boyfriend holds her tight in his arms. Swallowing the growing feel of humiliation, Sanji reaches a trembling hand towards them, pleading for help. But the couple only stands there, terror-stricken and watches. “Help… please help me.”

The man steps back, pulling his girl with him and covers her eyes as he murmurs “I’m sorry.” Before running off.

Hunter laughs. “You honestly didn’t believe that they would be able to help you, now did you? You’re pathetic!” The rest of the men laughs along and Sanji just want to stop exist.

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

The dull rolling of water up against the hull sings like a faint lullaby for those who listens to it. A young fox has misled itself out on the dock, sniffing around in the containers, searching for something eatable. A racoon licks its small fingers, before sniffing the air from the top of one of the containers. It looks at the fox, before it turns its head and its black eyes lands on Nami. They stand looking at each other for a couple of seconds, before the racoon runs off. But the fox stays, still looking curious up at her, it sniffs the air for the smell of danger and then returns dig its nose further into its precious treasures. 

Nami sighs and leans her head against the cool railing, listening to the tranquilising sound of the raindrops drumming down on her raincoat. She can’t stop feeling guilty at Sanji’s missing return. Ever since the talk with Zoro, Sanji hadn’t been his usual self. He hadn’t looked her in the eyes as he usually did, he didn’t really talk to her, rather he kept his distance as he had promised. Sanji was a man who respected peoples wishes, just like that, even if it hurt himself. 

Then what happened yesterday? Is it as Robin had told them? If that is the case, then Sanji is innocent.

She slides to her knees, staring into the strong dark Adam wood, before she turns to sit properly and buries her face into her knees, pulled up to her chest. The rain slowly starts to subside. 

Robin had told her about the gang who used to come to that exact tavern they had been at. Hunter, the leader of the gang, didn’t get his name for no reason. Rumours said that he was a psychotic, ballistic killer and rapist, who enjoyed watching other people making a fool out of themselves. And to see them suffer in more than one meaning. He was known to slip drugs into other people’s drinks; drugs there even could anesthetize a seaking. He used drugs to make hormones go crazy and then follow the victim until the drug was at its highest to then – Nami trembles by the mere thought of it. Had Sanji really fallen victim to those men? She knows that he’s strong, but even he can’t withstand the effect of strong drugs.

“Hunter is a monster in human size!” Robin’s words echo in her memories and her grave expression when telling it, still haunts her. “Hunter loves blood… it’s not without a reason that he has a bounty on 370.000.000 beri on his head.”

Hunter was a dangerous man, using dirty tricks to ‘have some fun’ with his prey, before killing them… brutally. Often even their closest families couldn’t identify the victims, they’d been that massacred, or completely mentally disturbed. People in the town feared him, they didn’t even dare to turn him in to the marines when they had the opportunity. 

It was no longer only the rain running down her chins.

 

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

“Heh! He’s out cold!” 

He’s being pulled up by his arm, as he senses the men looking intriguingly at him. As he doesn’t move, he’s tossed to the side, like the trash there cushions his fall. He keeps still, waiting for the right moment. 

“The pretty blond couldn’t handle it after all. Dead as a fish he is.”

“No,” Hunters voice is deep and absolute, the man steps up to him and pulls him roughly up by his hair. He can’t help a weak hiss escape and of course it doesn’t go unnoticed by the man. “He’s still breathing. Seems like we still can have some fun with him.”

Someone else thunders a laugher, if not mistaken, it’s Baldar. “If I’m not wrong, then I would say that you’ve fallen for that kid, boss!”

Hunter mere hums as large fingers brushes his chin. “You have a pretty face,” the man says, fingers running underneath the bangs covering half of the face, Sanji has to restrain himself from moving as the raw hidden scar gets revealed. Hunter halts before he moves the bangs fully from his face. He hums in distaste. “But what a disgust to behold when looking closer. Horrible.” He let the hair fall back into place. “But beside that, you got a nice-looking body, kid. Fair,” the hand runs down the shoulder “light, slim as a woman, yet muscular as a young man your age. Nice,” the hand goes further “really nice indeed.” 

Sanji opens his eyes at once, taking the other by surprise he lands a hard kick to the side of the man’s skull, just before the fingers went too far down. There’s a satisfied sound of something cracking by the impact, but an unsatisfied feeling as something tears apart inside of him. Gulping, he bits hard down on his lips and forces himself to execute a second blow, but Hunter is already recovering from his surprise attack and throws him against the wall. Head thumbing and sight blurring, Sanji doesn’t hesitate and stands up again, everything in him screaming to stand still, his legs and bag wanting to give in. Panting he glares at the man in front of him and attacks. Hunter avoids the kick swiftly. Sanji turns his hips just the slightest and then gets him right over the head in an obliquely axe-kick, hitting him perfectly between neck and shoulder and sending him to the ground. White noise howls in his ears, almost deafening him, almost sending him collapsing to the ground. Teeth crunching, he sends a circle-kick towards the man’s head.

But Hunter recovers fast and avoids the attack. The next thing he knows, his face is pressed against the wall and his arm’s twisted painfully behind his back. 

“Lovely.” Hunter chuckles. Sanji freezes as he feels the large hand grow back into a tiger-like-paw, claws slides down from his head, along his shoulder, back, down to his hips and down to his ass, grabbing the one cheek in one powerful grip. Sanji jerks and tries to push away from the wall with his body. “So much fight and spirit, even after all this.” The hand moves in between the cheeks, and Sanji rotates his hips with such force, that his heel hits the calves of the tiger-man. Using the opportunity Sanji twists himself free and makes sure to gain distance between the two of them. The men encircling them watched carefully. He’s ready for a fight, though he’s not sure how much longer he can stand his ground. He’s exhausted beyond imagination, every movement hurts and even breathing has become a pain. Shit! 

He needs to get out, now!

Hunter claps after recovering and steps closer to him. “Lovely, lovely, lovely! Now who would have thought that?” Hunter says amused, almost proud, and stops only four feet from him. Sanji holds his breath, preparing himself to any sudden movements. “You actually live up to your rumours, if not more. What a pleasant surprise.” Sanji barely avoids the large paw-hand, claws at ready to tear his face in two. He kicks to hit him in the liver, but something finally snaps inside of him and Sanji yelps in pain and falls to the ground, landing on his knees as pain shoots up from his ass and all up along his spine. Hunter chuckles mockingly. “What a lovely sight to behold!” he proclaims, arms spread to each side, as if he speaks for the world to hear. “I like it when there’s still some fight in them! Because then it’ll be so more fun to break them!”

Sanji stands up with a roar and attacks once again, fierier, angrier more hateful than before. He freaking wants to live and this fucker to die! The other men try to stop him, but his sudden urge of adrenalin gives him enough strength to take them down, one after another, ignoring the fact that he’s fighting partly naked, only covered by his torn shirt.

Hunter chuckles, then laughs as all of his men jumps at Sanji and forces him to the ground. Sanji roars at them to fucking move. “I really love you, kid!” Hunter says, moving up to the human pile and looks amused down at him. “To think, every one of us had our lovely time with you at least twice, yet here you are, fighting like the devil you are known as, Mr. Black Leg. This is lovely!”

“You should be flattered, kid.” Baldar rumbles somewhere close to Sanji’s ear. “Not many of his ‘preys’ has ever performed to stand up like you, after this. But the result will always be the same; a game of hunt, before it all ends in a gory slaughter.”

“Though none has never been able satisfy my hunger.” Hunter explains. “You can satisfy me much more than any woman ever has been able to, kid.” Hunter licks his lips hungrily “finally I can have some real ‘fun’. Get him up!”

The human pile moves and pulls him up, making sure he can’t get free. Hunter grabs his face and forces him to look up at his ugly smile. 

“Hmm, your pupils are still larger than normal, you’re pale and sweaty, the shivering might come from pressing yourself too much. Feeling a bit nausea perhaps?” If eyes could kill, Sanji would have murdered him many times over by now, and Hunter knows it, it amuses him. “Lovely.”

“Fuck, you!” Sanji wrenches his face out of his hold and moves to kick him, but the men have made sure not to underestimate, and each of them has a hold on him. Hunter bends down and grabs his foot.

“Was it this one you intended to use?” he asks, Sanji only glares at him as he tries to get his foot free. The hold tightens immediately, he can even feel the bones crunch in the man’s hold. The men lets go of him and pulls back, making him almost lose his balance when the support disappeared. The claw looking nails pierced into his foot. Fuck shit it hurt! “I think we have to make sure that you won’t easily run away from us in the near future, or to even do anything at all.” Moving his foot higher up, Hunter slashed down in one swift movement, cutting from the heel and up to the toes. Sanji screamed, it’s worse than back at that Clock-island, he even feels one of the nails slightly scratch some of his bones, what makes him crumble and almost lose consciousness. Hunter chuckles and licks his blood-covered paw-hand, humming by the taste, while watching Sanji writhing in pain on the ground. “Lovely sight to behold. What a wonderful taste.” Sanji looks at the tiger-man with blurry eyes, and tries to pull himself together and get back up and fight, or flee.  
Hunter is suddenly searching towards him in such a speed that Sanji can’t make it to defend himself, as another slash crosses his chest. Sanji screams and not a second later he’s against the wall, standing face to face with the predator. 

“No no, little boy, don’t you dare faint on me now.” Hunter says and grabs his throat to hold him in place. “We have much more in store for you, little boy.” There’s a little prick to his skin, as a needle is forced into his arm and shoots in the liquid into his bloodstreams. Not many seconds later, his vision starts to blur, then as it turns white, Sanji begins to panic. 

“Like my new drug? I call it ‘white winter’, I guess you know why?” 

Everything is white. He tries to blink, but even as he closes his eyes, that strong white light is there, even on his right blind eye, something there shouldn’t had been possible. “What you’ve done to me?” he asks, suddenly aware of the trembling of his own voice. The men laugh, apparently finding his situation amusing. He’s tossed to the ground and Sanji tries to scramble away, blindly searching with his hands to find something he can use to defend himself with. A kick to the open wound in his abdomen stops him, and another send him flying across the alley. A foot presses down onto his skull, and that horrible psychotic laugh sounds above him. “Now we know where we have you!” 

 

~To be continued~


	5. Blood in the Rain, tears in my eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In where the search closes in...

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
What would’ve happened  
if we hadn’t done the things we did?  
Could a different path, had stopped your blood to shed on the walls?  
Would my strength been enough to stop  
your sufferings?  
Would these alien feelings ever started to grow?  
I don’t know, only, tha whatever path destiny would’ve taken me to,  
I have to find you,  
Because please, my heart can’t take to lose you again!  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

5\. Chapter   
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
Blood in the Rain, tears in my eyes  
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The shaken young couple had told them where to find him. The woman crying constantly, as her boyfriend talked. The descriptions had put Zoro in a state of revulsion and made his feet move faster than normal, and Luffy… went off, as soon as he heard which alley.

Curiously, the place was at the opposite direction of the harbour, normally the cook wasn’t the one to get himself lost, so why go in that direction?

Searching, Zoro almost misses the alley, but then recognises the boy with the strawhat shadowing the path, back turned to him, still as a statue. Calling his name, the captain doesn’t even react, and as he comes closer to look over the kid’s shoulder, he understands why the presence of the captains growing dark aura.

It’s everywhere, literally everywhere; on the ground, the walls, even all up to the lonely streetlamp, that already had burned it to a crimson colour.

Blood. 

“It doesn’t have to be his.” Zoro tries to comfort, though he’s not sure if it’s to ease the captain or himself. 

The heck happened here?

Then he sees it.

Pushing pass, Zoro moves to the stack of barrels and pulls out the hidden clothes. Torn, as if ripped off the person’s body. With no doubt, they belonged to the cook. The fuck they’ve done to him, had they really, as the couple had alluded…? The idiot would never give up without a damn stubborn bloody fight, they had to drug him beforehand if…

Zoro stops his trail of thoughts, the idea is utter unrealistic, yet not impossible. He’d heard about gangs like that, a very pathetic low way to overpower the victim.

Luffy approaches him from behind, sandals clapping against wet bloodied cobbles. He can sense his growing storming emotions, a mirage of his own high rising feelings. Zoro clutches the torn piece of fabric harder to hide the slight tremor in his hands. 

“Sanji…” Luffy whispers sorrowfully, anger only a layer underneath the words.

“Where the hell did they take him?” Zoro asks, as no clue is to find in their surroundings.

Luffy takes the clothes out of his hands and stares at it. Black tuxedo and a blue shirt – it’s the blond’s favourite shirt. He’d often gotten his ears yelled full with bloody curses whenever he endangered it in any way, even just with a baffle of booze. If the cook saw its condition now, he would’ve gone berserk. 

Knuckles turns white as the captain tightens the grip in the ruined clothes, shoulders trembles, before a sudden roar startles Zoro, before the kid turns sharply around and charges down the streets, the opposite direction they came from. 

It takes Zoro a whole of two seconds before he registers the situation, “Oi, Luffy!” he calls and runs after him. He throws one last, disgusted look into the alley before looking forward, trying not to lose sight of their captain, charging blindly down the streets, a ray of sunlight already dancing on the younger teen’s back. 

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

It has stopped raining. For how many days now had rained? Three days? Or was it four? He barely remembers. Townspeople slowly wakes up, greets the new day with a smile in their merry voices. The smell of baked bread sneaks out on the streets, and all the way up to him, it makes him even more hungry, even though he tries to suppress the feeling of emptiness gnawing at his insides. It won’t take long time before it forgets the hunger and just gets accustomed with the empty feeling, before days after again the craving will eat him up from the inside. 

A doorbell rings as the first customer arrives, ready to start the day with new baked bread and fresh milk that the milkman just has arrived with. 

He’d wished to be down there, to be the customer buying that bread, maybe some local pastries to get ideas for future desserts for his lovely ladies and the others, buying some fresh milk, some butter, maybe even some flour. They were actually low on flour.

A hard slam pulls him away from the streets and back up into the dark dusty room with the shit brown curtains dancing stiffly in the wind, sneaking in from the large cracks of the boards covering the windows. A pleasureful moan echoes above him, as he feels his insides fill up with liquid, before Max pulls out and zips his pants. 

“Boss been lucky to find something durable and ‘fresh’ as you to ‘play’ with.” The man snickers and claps his own tummy. “There’s nothing as a good fuck in the morning before breakfast, isn’t that right, little whore?” With that, he walks off, arms stretching above his head as he leaves Sanji alone in the dark room, only lightened up by the ghost of sunlight. 

Sanji glares at the back of the man, as he disappears behind a closing door, wanting nothing more than to rip off that thing that definite him as a manly human being. Human. Hah! That’s a disgrace against the human race! 

He tries, he really tries to keep his track onto the road of hatred and anger, yet, laying displayed naked on a wooden table, being used by the one fucking pervert after the other, beaten and ridiculed constantly, he can’t help the growing feeling of loneliness burning and cringing his insides. A tear escapes, feeling warm against his cold skin. They hadn’t even bothered to throw a blanket over him. 

The heavenly smells from the bakery snuck in through one of the broken windows, making his stomach cringe in longing pain. Each morning the smell lured customers in to its wonderful bakery, and each morning it reminded Sanji about how hungry he is. He catches the tear with his rough tong, bathing his chipped lips, his throat feels dryer than Alabama desert.

When had he last got something to drink? 

Water, juice, a nice cup of coffee, maybe even tea or milk, or booze, anything really. They had given him nothing to drink, nothing but – he gulps, almost gags it up at the memory of the salty, bitter… no, stop thinking about it! He felt sick remembering it. The more he fought, the more fun they seemed to have, forcing it into him. 

Sanji turns as much as it’s possible in his bindings, not able to hold it in him anymore, the acid burning his already pained throat, giving him an even more horrible aftertaste. He spits to get the rest of it out. It still has that milky colour with a splosh of red.

Panting, he tries to control his ragged breathing. He’s shaking and it isn’t only because of the cold or the vomit. No, he knows what it’s from, the cold sweat only confirming it. His body is already craving another dose, another injection of blissful feeling, a mental escape from all of this. He slams his heel against the table’s surface, gritting his teeth as the pain agitates him, the pain a welcoming gift to forget that other shit. He slams his other heel down, the cuts reopening and irritating the already irritated skin, he groans, wheezes to ready himself for another flood of pain – rather this than his mind giving in to the withdrawals. Biting hard at the insides of his lips, he turns his head, readies, but then catches the reflection in the damn mirror. The reflection of his own pathetic being. 

Dried blood covers his body together with a lot of scratches and open gashes – they hadn’t even bothered to wrap his wounds, except the larger ones covering his chest, it stings as he takes a too deep an inhale of air. Even his hair looked, as if bathed in rusty tar, glued to his face with ‘clots’ of dried shit. Black incircles his eyes and a hollow look ghosts the blue orbs. 

Even as strong as he is, he’s surprised to even be alive, but that isn’t the first time he’s surprised by his own duration. The beatings he survived from his non-human brothers. The hunger and unknown faith on that rock, waiting for a ship to pass by, watching sunset after sunrise, wondering for each day there went, if he ever would see the sun rise or the sun sink into the dark waters again, cursing and appreciating it for each time he was blessed and cursed by the sight. Somehow it was a comfort that the old geezer was there as well, sitting at the other side of that giant rock, though still leaving him most of the time to loneliness.

And now this.

He doesn’t know when, or how, but eventually he finally falls asleep, a momentarily escape from this living nightmare.

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

“Ooiii! Sanjii!” 

He groans and turns onto his other side, doesn’t want to deal with the ever-hungry captain just yet, he’d barely finished cleaning the whole kitchen after the huge party the idiot wanted to throw. He just wanted a few hours of sleep, not a few minutes.

“Sanjiii~!” 

Someone’s poking him. He groans again but eventually goes against his own need and glares up at the person who dares to wake him up. Shielding his eyes against the sun beaming over their grinning captain, the smile only widens. 

“Oi, Luffy, I’ve barely fallen asleep.” he croaks tiredly. The younger teen snickers.

“You fell asleep out on the grass again, Sanji! Tired?” 

“No shit.” He answers sarcastically, a yawn only confirming it. He stretches his arms, moving his stiff muscles. Luffy keeps sitting in front of him, smiling. His huge smile falters though to a smaller more serious one.

“So, where are you?”

“Idiot! What nonsense are you spouting? I’m right in front of you!” Sanji answers annoyed.

“No, Sanji… Where are you?” Luffy says seriously, his expression graver and more worried. Sanji blinks confused up at him. He moves to sit up, but a pang of pain suddenly shoots up through his spine. Moving again, he can’t move his feet, his arms are suddenly caught and he can’t get free. Who the fuck is holding him down? Luffy takes a deep breath above him and suddenly screames of his full lungs. “SAAAAANJIIIIII!!! WHERE AREE YOUUU??!!”

“Fuck shit, you freaking idiot! Stop screaming like-” Sanji looks up confused, as the younger teen now looks ahead of him and not down at him. The captain gets up and calls even louder.

“SAAAANJIIIII!!! WHEEEREEEE AAAREEE YOOUUU??!!”

Sanji blinks a couple of times as he wakes up. A dream, but not an ordinary one. He moves his head up and straightens his ears as he meant he heard someone calling his name again, this time for real. His heart almost stopped a beat as he heard the voice getting clearer and louder. Craning his neck back, he stares at the opening cracks from the boards over the window. That voice…

“SAAAANJIIIII!!! WHERE AAAREEE YOOOUUUU??!!” 

Sanji blinks, a smile cracks open. “Luffy?” His heart almost swells by the mention of his captain’s name. It definitely is him! Craning his head enough, he even can see the small form of their captain, a red west and a familiar straw hat covering over messy black hair, walking down there on the streets, somewhere before the bakery underneath this apartment.

“OOOI COOK!!!”

“Mosshead…?” and sure it is, two seconds later comes the swordsman into view. So close, so close and yet so far, but close enough that they could hear him. Even after all that unforgiving shit he’d done to them, that evening, they still go so far to look for him. 

Happiness sprouting with renewed energy, he thinks nothing of it as he calls back, of his full lung’s strength. “Zoro! Luffy! ZORO! LUF- mphf?! HMM!!!” A hand clamps over his mouth, muffling his roars and screams. He squints and fights to get free. Damn it! He hadn’t even heard him coming! The large hand presses harder over his mouth, silencing him fully as they both watches the two pirates stop up, outside of their building, listening, waiting for the next call to reach their ears. They says something to each other and looks around. ‘Damn it, moss-head! You got the best hearing! For god sake, I hope you heard me! Please tell him that you heard me! Please, don’t hate me too much…!’ “Mm?!” He protests and fights even harder, as the hand closes over his nose as well, as he watches his two friends leave the place. ‘NO!! Don’t go! Please don’t go! I’m Here! RIGHT HERE!! LUFFY!! ZORO!!’ “HMMMM!!! MHMMM!! NNNGH!!” He tries to scream, he tries to call, but none of it helps. 

He feels tears well up in his eyes. They’re gone. They didn’t hear him. Damn it! Shit fuck, damn hell!! He squints one last time in his holds, pulls at his arms, tied up to the wall, before his body stills and gives up. He cries inwardly, he can’t help it, can’t help the tremor there shakes through his naked being. He can’t do anything but to lay there and listen to their calls, as they goes further away. His one chance, his one hope. Gone. 

The hand retreats after ensuring that he won’t scream again. Sanji turns his face away, defeated, and sighs deeply. A chuckle rumbles in the room and soon his whole vision is filled with that ugly face of that orange-haired fuck-head. He yanks his head away as the man’s hand caresses his jaw. Hunter chuckles once again, enjoying all of it too much. “So, you thought that they would come and save you, hmm?” he grabs his face in a fierce grip and forces him to look at him. Sanji glares, but there isn’t the same strength as before. He hasn’t felt this devastated, not since back then as he saw that one ship pass by out on the sea, as he sat on that rock, oblivious to his desperate calling and waving.

“Wonderful!” Hunter chuckles as he studies his face “Starting to realise some things, kid?” He runs his thumb over his cheek, feeling the salty tears he hasn’t even known was there. “Excellent!”

“They’ll come back.” Just like that other ship, there had to be another ship coming for him, another chance. 

Hunter chuckler and leans in closer, his lips almost touching his ear as he whispers, his voice husky and deep. “Why in the world, would they ever save you of all people? Hmm?” Sanji yanks his head to get free, but Hunter’s grasp is firm. “Why on earth would they save you of all people? What do you think, that they would think of you, when they get to hear what a whore you’ve been?” Sanji freezes, Hunter smirks in satisfaction. “You’re nothing else but a cheap whore! Blondie’s like you are to no other use than a quick fuck! Nothing else!” Sanji looks up at him, petrified. Hunter smiles, showing his rows of white fangs. “Ya starting to crumble, ai kid?” He presses his mouth fully against his ear, sharp fangs grazing against the earlobe as he speaks “Now starts the real fun for you and I, kid.”

“No…” He sounds weak in his own ears, his voice barely a whisper, he moves his head from side to side. “No…!”

“‘No’ what, kid?”

“I…I’m not a… not a…”

“What have ya used the last hours for? Days even? Sleeping?” Sanji gasps the air into his lungs, as he tries to control those up roaring feelings. He can’t give up, shouldn’t give up easily. They didn’t.

He shakes his head again. “You, you ra-raped me, you freaking son of a – hah!”

“You’re telling me, that you didn’t like this?” Hunter says in a lustful voice as he licked the inside of his ear. Sanji moans, can’t help the surge of pleasure it gives. Hunter goes further down, licks his throat and bites his Adams apple slightly.

“Stop it-!”

“You don’t like this, my little whore?”

“I’m not your-”

“Oh yes you are, kid. You’re mine, our little fuck-doll to play with.” Hunter snickers as he climbs the table. “Whatever I want from you, I can have it. You’re nothing, just a pretty boy who should lift up his ass and take it.” Sanji’s eyes widens as he hears the zipper. Hunter grabs him and forces him onto his stomach, reopening a lot of the barely healed wounds hidden underneath the dirty old bandages in the process, crossing his arms and legs painfully as they still are bound, making sure that he can’t get free.

“No!!” Sanji pulls his arms and his legs, tries to turn over, to make those ropes just burn the hell up and disappear, instead they cut deeper into his wrists and ankles, reopens the wounds and slicks the ropes with blood. His hands. His hands will be ruined if this kept on. His ankles he could hide, but his hands are his life, his everything. He can’t get free without screwing them up too much. “Get the fuck off me you - !!”

“Hush, hush. I got a little gift for you as well, kid.” Hunter pants, rustling with something else as he sits onto his back to hold him in place. Sanji can feel the long wounds crisscrossing his chest tear open underneath the pressure. Hunter is opening his bag, pulls out a rubber band that he tightens around his arm, and Sanji doesn’t need to see to know what comes next. “Since I can see that you’re as persistent as ever, even though you know no one’s coming for you.” Fighting more perplexed in holds, Sanji watches with horror as Hunter snaps his fingers against his upper arm to lure the vein to show itself clearer, hears as the tube is pulled off the already prepared needle, before said needle comes into vision. “Hold still, ya little piece of shit, you’ll feel much better very soon.”

He even tries to bite him, but Hunter is fast and in one swift motion, he presses the needle through his skin, hitting the vein with practiced ease and injects that poison into his system. Sanji screams, pulls and fights for no use. Then he cries as he realises, that there’s no getting out of this, as it enters his bloodstream, and all too soon he feels things clearing up, while at the same time he starts to feel drowsy and comfortable. 

His body is starting to accept the drug way too fast. 

His mental functioning is clouding, breathing has become harder, he feels a joy, a glee as that horrible wonderful rush heightens his adrenalin. He tries to move his limbs though he already knows it’s fatal, a waste of energy and hell if he cares.

“Like it, your little whore?” Hunter says, grabbing his hair and pulls his head up. “Like that wonderful rush?” 

Sanji groans and pulls his head as far away as his holds allows him to.

“Fuchk ouff.” He groans tiredly.

Hunter chuckles darkly. “No. Now we’ll gonna have some fun, ya little dipshit.” He slides down to position himself and leans down to whisper into his ear “Way more fun.”

“Noh.” Sanji shakes his head tiredly. Damn it. He can’t move a muscle any longer, and worst of all: he doesn’t even care, just want to be over with it already.

“As if you have a saying in this.” Hunter says, clearly humoured by the situation. “You’re a whore, kid, a simple blond, there’s for no other use than to fuck! One who’s been fucked by another man! You’re a faggot! Nothing else than a faggot-whore!” And then he drives right into him.

Sanji slams his head onto the table as pain erupts and he screams. Sniffling, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to think about it, but that damn drug made him like the abuse, like the pain and not care a damn shit in the world what was happening to him. It’s making him give up, and Sanji hates it, he hates to feel this weakness, again. He hates that Hunter is right; that he is indeed starting to crumble… again…

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

Zoro kicks the door open, breaking it off its hinges into the bakery. The blaring bell tears off and rolls helpless around the floor, before silencing. Luffy enters first, a ripped blue shirt in his hand, he still denies letting go of it.

A customer runs screaming out from the store, forgetting to pay the baker for her bread, there scrambles away from the counter and against the wall, as far away from the intruders as possible. The baker watches with fear, as they both walks up to the counter. 

“I-I-I know who-who you a-are…!” the baker stammers, as Zoro keeps to the door, hands resting on his katanas, while Luffy closes the gab to the counter. “You, you’re Straw hat Luffy, t-the captain of the group of pirates there went against the World Government! You-you were the ones who destroyed Enies Lobby and tore down Impel Down!”

“You gonna call on us to the Marines?” Zoro asks, making the baker widen his eyes, as he thumbs out Sandai Kitetsu, and pulls up his arms in surrender. He looks about ready to shit himself. From the look of it, he even know’s Zoro’s own horrid rumours. He didn’t mind it though, but he didn’t like that they even plotted him to have killed innocent women and children. 

Luffy of course ignores all of this and pulls the baker up from the floor, where he had slid down to.

“Where. Is. My. Cook?” the kid asks in a dangerous low tone, clearly restraining himself from doing any harm, just yet. The baker swallows hard.

“S-s-s-sir, I-I-I d-d-don’t k-know what y-y-you’re ta-talking a-about!” It’s almost impossible to understand him, Luffy gets him.

“WHERE IS SANJI?!” he literally bellows and grabs the baker’s collar, glowing at him.

“S-s-sir, I can en-ensure you that he-he’s not here. I don’t know who he-”

“Baker!” Zoro then says, as he looks around the shop “We heard someone calling for us from somewhere around here,” when he finally looks at the trembling man, the baker squints as he speaks. “and that was his voice we heard! Truly you must have heard something, baker!”

“I, I-” Luffy tightens his grasp, and the man doesn’t even dare to look at him. Looking at Zoro instead, he takes a deep breath to calm himself, before finally looking at Luffy. “Kid…” he finally says with a heavy sigh, even Luffy catches the difference in the air, and relaxes in his posture, enough to startle the baker, but makes it easier for him to speak. Throwing one quick look at his bakery, almost as if to ensure no one beside them heard him. around. “If you want to stay alive, then you better have to leave now, before he finds out that you’re here.”

Luffy’s calm façade crumbles again and darkens. “I am NOT leaving without Sanji!”

“This Sanji you speak of, a-are already more dead than alive by this time! And I don’t think that you wish to see him in the state that he is in now! I can’t let you see him like that!”

“What? What do you mean?” Luffy asks, both confused and angered. He shakes him hard. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN ABOUT THAT?! YOU’VE DONE SOMETHING TO HIM TOO?!!”

“No, no! never! I, I just, I mean, we know, I mean, we’ve had before others like, I, I –”

“Oi, Luffy!” Zoro murmurs, to calm his fuming captain, and lays a hand on his tense shoulder. “Calm down and let him speak.”

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

Sanji pants hard, gasps for air. Everything hurts, outside and on the inside. He feels sick. Fatigue slowly starts to take its grasp on him again, but the drug keeps him from falling asleep, it forces him to stay awake. Head rolling to the side, he looks at the place where he last had seen his two shipmates, while Hunter’s words keeps weaving into his head and stays there like a knot.

He closes his eyes and cries, he can’t help it, curses the situation he’s ended in. why? Why the fucking hell why?! Is he really nothing worth? He’s heard it before, from his own family. Useless, worthless. He clenches his teeth and braces himself, tries not to fall into that pit of hopelessness again.

The door opens. He doesn’t need to look, to know who it is. Something gets placed on a nearby table. He doesn’t care what he wants to do to him now, yet a growing nervousness slowly floods from his gut. The drug is about to wear off it seems. Moving his arms to get his hands free, he winces as he feels the rope gnawing deeper into his bleeding wrists. 

“Fufufu! Still trying to get free?” chuckles Hunter. Sanji ignores him, clenching his eyes, he turns his face away from his voice. Keeping his eyes closed, he tries to push himself further up with his knees, ignoring the stabbing pain from… there. Moaning in displeasure he finally manages to get his knees underneath him. He barely can feel his feet anymore, but he can feel the ropes scraping against his bones, almost tearing through his muscles and ligaments. He breathes in shivering sharp, pained gasps and leans his head up against his trembling crossed arms. Fuck it hurts, everything hurts. He’s dizzy, he feels sick and oh god how much he want to just lay back down and fall asleep.

Even opening his eyes hurts, strong light has been turned on and it makes it throb behind his eyelids. Finally opening them, he almost loses his balance. Though wearing off, the drug’s still affecting him. He have to be stronger than that drug. He can’t give up. His friends are looking for him. If he wants to be found, to get back to the Thousand Sunny, he has to make himself visible.

As he heaves a reasonable amount of air down into his lungs, he forces his body forward, feeling every muscle protesting against the action, gritting his teeth he stretches further up, the ropes gritting against his ankles, he manages to hold back a scream. Finally, he can touch the ropes at his wrists with his mouth, and starts gnawing, ignoring the humorous sounds from the monster in the room.

“You’re a rare kind,” Hunter chuckles amused. “Still not giving up, even drugged and at the verge of passing out of pain?” Sanji ignores, keeps gnawing at the ropes, needs his hands to get his feet free. Even if he has to drag himself out of here. “Even after 96 hours, you believe in hope? That’s rare.” 

Sanji can almost sense Hunter’s growing wicked smile, as he walks up to him and just stands there, watching. 

“You really think that you can get out of them like that?” 

Sanji doesn’t answer, keeps gnawing, he can feel it’s helping. An animalistic growl rumbles over his head, sending chills down his spine. Sanji yelps as Hunter suddenly pulls his legs, hard, making him lay face down on the table, and holds him in place. He tries again, to get back up, back to his work.

“Lay still, kid.” Hunter commands and smacks him harshly over the head, numerous times, until he’s all still. He then turns him over, Sanji refuses to look at him, head throbbing, he wonders what the psycho needs with that old brown doctor bag. Before it is displayed different kinds of instruments. His eyes widen as his mind finally puts it together, and pulls the ropes again, harder and rougher. “Now now, don’t get so upset all of a sudden,” Hunter says as he finds what he needs from the table and bag, and turns towards him again. Laying a large hand on his leg, in a reflex Sanji kicks his other leg out towards him, panicked, the rope snaps and the foot connects to the man’s jaw, a satisfied crunch fills the eerily silent room. Hunter is sent flying.

In a sea of nausea and flaming pain, Sanji pulls a smile. He readies another kick. His foot is already fucked up, it would be a miracle if it ever would heal properly again. He doesn’t care, might as well use it the best he can, even if it’d snap off.

He hears movements from the door and glances for a moment. Something there looks like a wolf watches him intriguingly. Its ears move as it listens to his breathings and steps in, snout sniffing the air and frowns. Is it that creature’s pet? It wouldn’t surprise him. The silver-grey animal snaps its head to the side, to Hunter, but seeing that he’s not getting up any time sooner, it takes yet another daring step inside, whines, as if asking Sanji’s okay. It looks around, sniffs, as if it is searching for something, or someone! As its sky-blue eye lands on him again, Sanji feels a slight shiver running through him. Its other eye is closed, sealed with a long, nasty scar there runs down to its chin. Poor creature.

Suddenly the wolf runs off and at first Sanji understand what went into it, but then Hunter suddenly reappears right beside him, grabs his leg before he can even attempt to do anything, and then stabs a sharp scissor through it and into the wooden table underneath. Sanji curves his back, and screams.

Hunter pulls the scissor back out and dries the blood off in an old piece of cloth. “Behave yourself, kid, or I’ll have to kill you faster than I had intended.” He warns as he places the tool back onto the table and choses another one instead. “Now, Mr. Black Leg,” Hunter says and turns to face him “after what I have heard you should be a cook, am I correct?”

“Jesus you’re fast.” Sanji teases, trying to compose himself. “Who told you? Your grandma? Or was it the old man at the nursing home who read it in the newspaper last decade?” 

Hunter’s lips turns down. “Cheeky again, now are we?”

Sanji chuckles darkly, he’s sweating, trembling, but at least the pain already has subsided to a dull thumping. The wonder of drugs. “Damn hell ‘we’ are, shit-head!” he answers, sighing deeply. Even talking takes a lot of energy.

“Your friends won’t be able to save you, if that’s what you’re hoping for, kid.” The man sneers. He tries to keep his intimidating stare, but at the look of the man, he’s seen through him, through his shield of confidence, nothing but a shield to hide the growing nervousness and sizzling angst. “Now. Mr. Black Leg-”

“You’ve already said that, dick-head!” Sanji teases, though his voice isn’t free for stutters.

Hunter ignores him as he walks around the table to stand next to his left side. He can feel his shield start to crack. Hunter grabs his head and holds it still. “Now we’re going to try the real fun.” Hunter chuckles, as Sanji tries to get a look at what he’s about to do. “What’s wrong, young Mr. Black Leg? Can’t see me?” Sanji freezes. He’s found out! “I know about your little handicap, little friend,” Hunter moves down to whisper into his ear “you’re completely blind on your left eye… am I not right, Scar-face?” Sanji widens his eyes, as the man moves his bangs away from his face to reveal the gruesome part of it. He flinches as he feels something cold touching the wounded skin near his left eye. “What’s up, Scar-face? Don’t like not being able to see what I’m doing to you?”

“Stop, that…” Sanji winces as he feels something cut into his skin right beside his eye, a few drops of blood runs along his cheek. 

When he can see the man again, as he steps away from the table, Hunter is smiling with satisfaction. “Strap him fully to the table!” He orders and suddenly two men grabs his legs while another two hurries to tie them fully to the table, making him completely immobile. When the heck did they come?

“No! Let go of me! Fucking let GO!!” Sanji protests in a voice that’s not suited for the chef of the ‘gruesome’ straw-hat crew and fights to get his freed leg free again. It connects and one of the men is sent flying. But another one hurries to grab the leg and force it back down. “Let go, I said!!” he roars. Ropes tightens painfully around his shins, making sure he can’t move, they does the same with his arms, leaving him completely vulnerable and exposed. He pulls, fights, forces his body up and growls in frustration. “FUCK!! NO!!”

“You’re a chef, Mr. Black Leg,” Hunter starts again after sending his men out of the room and plays with his knife “and one of the best from what I know. Now, you must work a lot with knifes, am I not right?” Sanji glares at him, not liking where all this is going. Hunter pulls a smile and points the knife at his heart. “Then, let me show you what else a knife can be used to, other than just for cooking.” The knife caresses his pale blood covered chest, he finally stops far down below, too far below. Sanji holds his breat. “You know, I once was a butcher, a good learning when you want to study to a doctor grade.” Sanji starts pulling the ropes harder to get free, but he can’t even wriggle without the ropes leaves burn marks on his skin. He’s trapped, they did their too well this time.

“No, not only there,” Hunter chuckles. He shows him the knife again, turns it in his hold. Sanji can’t keep his eye from it, watches it like a hawk. “We gonna have a lot more ‘fun’ with this little one, trust me!” 

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

“He steals your courage, your personality. Once they’ve been abducted by him they will never return back to those they once were. They’ll be nothing but a wandering shadow of their earlier self.” The baker looks from the one teen closest to him and to the other, still standing at the door. The baker licks his lips, grasps tight to that courage there suddenly blooms up. These two are okay, they weren’t as bad as the Marines and the World Government wanted them to look like. Typical. “Then, he waits, waits for the proper time. Watches them and waits till they’d gotten well enough, when they think that they’ll be free; he gives them that false hope. And then, he attacks, hunts them down, ‘plays’ with them like a cat playing with a mouse before it eats it, kills them slowly and painfully, coldblooded, rips their bodies apart, literally, makes them beg to end it faster. Most of them doesn’t get that far though.”

“What do you mean?” asks the swordsman from the door, though not looking at him, his eyes glued to the streets.

He licks his lips again, suddenly feeling very thirsty. “Most of them ends it by their own hands. They know, once marked by him, he will hunt you till the end of the world!”

The young captain stares at him intensely, as if he tries to see through if it’s a lie, if only it was. “Where is he?” he then says slowly, looking more calm and pleadingly, the hand in his shirt releasing just a little.

“You can’t help him, kid. He’s been marked, if he’s even still alive, he’ll return to you sooner or later, but right now, it’s too late to save him. If you interfere Hunter now, you’ll only end up as the next on his list.” He lays a hand on the teen’s trembling hands. “You cannot save him. Believe me when I say it’s impossible. I’ve already lost my daughter, after she tried to save her mother.” At the last sentence his head drops, the memories waking up and ripping in every cell of him. 

Luffy finally releases him and steps back, without saying anything, just watching him.

“Baker!” the swordsman Zoro suddenly says, now looking at the baker. His eyes are dark, yet not cold, there’s a warmth in them, humbleness, understanding and seriousness. A kid his age shouldn’t carry that many feelings in his heart. “He won’t give up that easily you know. You better tell him now where we can find our crewmate, or he’ll tear down the whole village until he finds him.” he warns, nodding at his captain. The baker turns his head to look at the younger kid and almost trips over his own feet. All of a sudden, that calmness and care he had sensed before, is gone. Hate and anger darkens those innocent eyes. What has this time of age done to them? “It’s not a threat, it’s a warning. If someone touches or hurts any of our friends, he will tear down the area if he can’t find them, and beat whoever is at fault, into a pulp.” He pushes his katana slightly out from its hilt, so the shining metal is visible, a smirk playing on his lips. “I can’t say that I’m any better.”

“Old man, please tell me were we can find Sanji.” Luffy says quietly, still with the hint of murder in his tone, his eyes never leaving him. 

“I’m begging you, kid; don’t throw yourself into the arms of death that easily. Please listen to me…!” 

Luffy isn’t looking at him now, but behind him, at the backroom, no, the mirror beside it, quizzically. Then the baker sees it as well, behind the kids, outside the bakery. A wolf. Silver-grey. It’s him. As their eyes meets, the wolf turns its head at the direction of the building beside this store, then scrapes the ground, twice, as he nods in understanding, the wolf runs off. So he’d seen him? Alive? The swordsman furrows his brows, been watching the wolf from the mirrors like his captain, hands ready on his katanas, by no doubt finding the interaction quite bizarre. These kids are just as persistent as that wolf.

“Tell me baker,” the ravens voice suddenly made an 180 degrees turn, eyes shining. What on earth? “That wolf spoke to you, didn’t it?”

“What?” 

“So cool, almost as if it understood us, it did, didn’t it?”

The baker could only blink in mild amusement. This kid… 

“Yosh! I’ve decided! Tell me where Sanji is, baker, and I’ll kick this Hunter and his of his men far away from here, so they’ll never bug any of you again!”

Zoro pulls a thin smile. “So, his bounty should be worth a hell of a lot? This’ll be interesting!”

The baker sighs. “Well, looks like I can’t stop you then. You’re damn hell of the stubborn kind!” He tells them, and no sooner they’re gone, the kid thanking him with a wide grin.

‘Well… may God be with you then.’ the baker thinks, as he watches the two teens hurry off in the direction he points out. The entrance to the apartment complex just around this corner. So he hadn’t been imagining things as he’d heard screams and cries the last couple of nights, screams deafened by the awakening village. 

Christian, his youngest son comes out from his hiding in the shadows, as per usual; he had heard everything of the conversation. He holds tightly to his apron and looks the same way. The green-haired teen had stared at him for most of the time, he had known where his son had been hiding, but had done nothing to show, he had said nothing at all. 

The baker runs his fingers through his messy, dark hair before he pat his beloved son on his head. “Now, let’s go in and take a look on those buns that you’ve been working on, shall we?” Christian looks up with a great smile. Things would be alright. Things would be alright again.

“Hey dad?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we make the icing green?” The baker looks surprised down at his nine-year-old son.

“Green?” Christian nods.

“Yeah, like that funny man’s hair. You think he would buy some of them?” The baker can’t stop laughing.

“Then what should we call those buns?” Christian thinks hard.

“Marimo-buns!” he says proudly and shows all his white teeth in a big grin. 

 

~To be continued~


	6. Lost in Memories of Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In where the haunting doppelgänger enters....

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
Every time I look at him  
I think about you  
…That is why I hate him.  
When can everything turn back to like it was before?  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

6\. Chapter   
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Lost in Memories of Nightmares  
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The ray of the sun bathes the village underneath it, creating a happy atmosphere between the chattering townspeople. The market is full of life, the news about the upcoming festival is the biggest gossip these days, they had looked forward to it for a long time and couldn’t wait for it to begin. 

He sniffs to the fruit interestingly -he’s never seen anything like it. It had the shape of a grapefruit, but its flesh is green and smells of something in between a kiwi, a banana and a clementine. Did it taste just as it smelled? 

“One of the finest fruits you can get on this island.” The seller from the stall promises.

“Maybe, but not at the whole of Grand Line.” a passer-by points out and the seller tells him to mind his own business. Thought so. They know he’s new here, but not all that new again, he’d been living here and there on this island for a while now. Finally getting the fruits down to an affordable price, not to the sellers liking, he buys a crater of them and carries it to the cart he’d borrowed, placing it among the other bags of supplies, and pulls the cart with him back to the harbour. A swift of light blond hair tickles his nose. He stops and looks up at the biggest ship at the dock, the one with a lion’s head. Sniffing the air, his smile grows.

“You can come out now, Chopper!” The he calls, without turning around. The little reindeer-doctor tiptoes out from the shadows and looks up at him with amazed eyes.

“It still surprises me that you know I’m around.” He says amused. 

He chuckles and points to his nose. “I got a pretty good smell, that’s all.” Chopper nods and then tilts his head to the other side. “What?”

“You look so much like him.” the reindeer says, with a tad of sadness. “It’s hard to believe that you’re not him, Nicki.” Nicki sighs and looks down at his little fellow, after a while he looks back up at the ship.

“I know, that’s why neither your captain nor the first mate likes me… am I right?”

“No no, it’s not that!” Chopper hurries to say and shakes his head violently. “They like you, it’s not that.”

“But I look like him too much.” Chopper sighs, knowing he can’t get around that. Ever since Nicki came on board their ship, offering his help in return of a roof over his head -they had the same target in mind, so why not help each other out? -, though things had been awkward between them since then, especially the first mate and the captain. Even his voice was almost the same, they said. 

“I still have to use my nose to convince myself that you’re not him. Sorry.” Chopper finally confesses and looks more than miserable about it.

Nicki goes to his knees before him. “Don’t think about it pal, things will be alright, ‘kay?” he says, smiling and ruffles the fur on the kid’s back. Chopper nods and follows him up the plank. “Oi! I’m back again!” he then calls out to the open deck. The navigator looks up from her newspaper and gives him a small smile. 

“Ah, nice to see you again, Nicki-kun.” She says. Nicki bows in return, but as he turns around, he hears that undefinable sigh, as if he’s missing a part of his gesture. They don’t know of his fine hearing, and he doesn’t attempt to tell them either, it would only put them in a worse situation of not even daring to say anything in his near, fear of saying anything to hurt his feelings, only it was the silence there hurt the most. Been there, tried that way too often before.

Nicki looks around at the huge ship. He’s still amazed over the beautiful craftwork of the ship, everything is just so perfect created, and he still can’t believe it’s the creation of that blue-haired pervert. “We don’t have more than what the big guy has given us, right?” the shipwright, Franky was it, once said with a blinding smirk, when Nicki pointed out his wear of clothing near the townsfolks kids. Well, might be, but from what he knows, ‘The big guy’ didn’t give any living beings any metal parts from birth.

Finally finding the one he was looking for, Nicki walks up to the oldest of the teens, his smile growing back to his lips as he sees that green mess of hair so well blend in with the grass underneath. “Oi! Marimo! Help me in the kitchen, will ya?” he needed to talk with him, and this is the only way to get his attention. Zoro’s presence changed and the usual uncomfortableness started to return. But he had to push it a bit further and stepped right up behind him. “Oi! Grass-head, you hear me?” he asks as he pokes him with the toe of his shoe. Suddenly a hand grabs his foot and squeezed it hard, that actually hurt this time. The first mate turns his face slowly up and glares daggers at him. If looks could kill, Nicki would’ve been dead a long time ago.

“Stop calling me that,” he whispers in a sinister tone and tightens his grip. Nicki swears that if he doesn’t get his foot free soon, he would be limping the rest of the month, foot broken. “Stop act like him, stop look like him and stop talk like him! You’re not him!”

“I found out about that the day I was born, shit-head.” Nicki teases, though he knows he’s tossing fuel onto the fire. “Now, let the hell go of my foot and help me up with the rest of the supplies. You and I need to talk!”

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

“Stop fucking around like that, shit-head! You and I need to talk!” Zoro grits his teeth and stamps after the blond teen, mumbling curses until they reach the kitchen.

“Oi! I’m here, first mate!” Nicki calls and waves his hand. Zoro looks surprised around and finds himself standing near the railing, hands full with bags of supplies. Not good. He’s thinking of him again. 

“Shit,” he grumbles and turns to follow the blond man who keeps waving at him. “Stop waving, piss-head, I’m not blind!” he sneers and stomps after Sanji… no, Nicki! Damn it! 

The kitchen’s dark and empty; it feels cold when entering it. Zoro hasn’t been in here for a while… he couldn’t stand being here… then again, other times it was, as if he couldn’t stay in other rooms but this. He places the bags on the counter and looks at it, running his finger over the cold surface, stopping as he reached the refrigerator. 

“Oi! Moss-head! No alcohol before after dinner!” Sanji says and points at him with a large cooking knife. Zoro grumbles and grabs a bottle anyway, as the blond cook curses himself for ever had given him the code to the lock.

“Just shut it and tell me when dinner is ready,” Zoro say and dumps down in one of the seats, as he rips the cork off the bottle and starts drinking.

Zoro sits and stares from his seat next to their captain’s. They never decided who should sit where; it just came up like this. He looks down at his hand, stares intensely on the bandage covering the new long wound, neatly closed by their doctor. The voice of the temporarily replacement-cook faints out as he keeps staring at his hand, as could he see the wound through the bandage. 

That baker had told them where to go, the blog next to the bakery, the entrance to the old apartment around the corner. The clocktower just stroked nine as they rounded the corner and silenced as they came in front of number five; a single door with a single glass window, belonging to an old rundown building, there threatened to collapse any minute, even the door Zoro suspected would smoulder if poking to it.

Luffy had slammed the door in, impatient as ever, the closer they got and just ran in, roaring in anger, pulling the attention of the culprits as he stormed the first apartment. Second floor, the baker had said, so Zoro went up, while Luffy checked this floor, or rather rampaged it. 

Then the storm came. With a bounty as high as this Hunter was, Zoro’s guess about his lackeys weren’t any weaklings either weren’t wrong. He fought, made sure none passed by him to interfere Luffy, though he had his share of fight, from what he could hear. Sandai Kitetsu sliced through them, when suddenly he was grabbed from behind. The man was larger than him, much taller, chuckling as Zoro even had troubles getting free.

“Looking for your little whore?” The fat man had said, his breath smelling like rotten fish and old socks. He had furrowed his brows at that comment and tried to point his katana towards him. 

“One move, fat-ass and you’ll lose your balls!” He’d said, the man stiffened and finally released him. A kick was enough to make the fat-ass loose his balance, a punch to the face and the man fell, tumbling all the way back down the stairs. Zoro had continued up the stairs, the battle roars from below suggested Luffy had his hands more than full, though nothing the youngster couldn’t handle. 

He didn’t see the fist come, as he reached the last step, and fell tumbling back down the stairs, managing to grab the handrail in time from plummeting any further down. Cursing, Zoro had thrown himself back on his feet, searching up and connecting his own fist to the hovering person’s jaw, before sending him down the same flight of stairs he wanted to send Zoro down at. The man didn’t get up again, and Zoro almost didn’t either. Grabbing the handrail, he’d suddenly felt dizzy, taking a deep breath, he’d hurried to cover his mouth. Someone had released some kind of gas downstairs. 

A roar, before the sound and shakes indicated that a wall just had been beaten down, but then after that, even though he could see the green smoke escape out the new opening, there were silence. 

He’d worried about Luffy, but knew the captain only would’ve send him back up looking after their cook, so he’d continued up, the corridor meeting him had too many doors. Taking down one door after the other, searching each apartment after the other, Zoro started to worry that second floor were the floor above him.

Then he encountered that apartment. 

The eighth apartment welcomed him with a strong stank of rotten meat. Covering his mouth and nose, Zoro stepped inside. Ruined furniture, broken windows and yet the stank hang heavily in the air. And then the blood. It was literally everywhere.

Heart taking up a pace, his feet lead him into the bedroom, finding the same chaos. As he neared the bathroom, the heavy smell of death amplified. He opened the door slowly, readying himself if an attack was in wait for him, though, something told him, before looking inside, that no one would come at him from here. 

The sight greeting him where horrible. 

Bodies. Bodies upon bodies were thrown into this small room. The corpses of men, women and even children laid and stared empty out into the room. Fear was slashed into their bloodied faces. Limbs twisted in the most inhumanly ways, some were either torn or cut off. Their bodies shredded open, revealing human organs, that insects already had started feasting on. A head rolled down from the top of the mountain of dead people and landed right in front of Zoro’s feet, its hollow eyes and twisted face stared horrified up at him. A fat cockroach crawled out from the mouth and hurried back to the mountain of bloody bodies.

Zoro gulped, nothing would attach him in here, except the undeniable illnesses there high possibly swirled around in this room. Zoro hurried out of the room, out of the appartment and went back into one of the previous apartments he had been in before. He gulped again as he sheeted his katana and went out to the bathroom and opened the toilet seat. 

He fell back with a scream as he sat face to face with another bloodied, horror-stricken head there looked back up at him. Scrambling away, he hurried out to the kitchen where he just in time made it to throw up in the sink. Whatever he had eaten the last couple of days was now wasted in the old sink. He didn’t give a shit if it would lay there to rotten; the sickening smell of rotten bodies and dried blood from the apartment right beside this one was even stronger than this. Shit! He put his head back down in the sink and threw up once again. This was too much. He had seen many bloodied bodies before, fallen in battles newly killed, but this… never something like this… this was the worst, this was almost too much.

Panting, he dried his mouth and turned on the faucet to wash his hands in the clear and fresh water. But the water there came was far from fresh and clear; it was rusty red, like blood, even smelled like blood. Zoro immediately pulled his hands away and stared wide-eyed at the sink. It was actual blood. Whoever stood behind all of this, must have more than a screw loose, because this was sick!

A scream ripped through the air and made him look up. Shit! Sanji! He hurried out the door, drying his bloodied hands in his pants and looked bewildered around. Where had the scream come from? And where the hell was Luffy, anyway? He walked slowly up the corridor, cursing his heart for beating as loud as it did, almost deafening his own footsteps.

“No, no! Please, don’t!!” Another horrible scream. Zoro stopped and turned around at once. There! It was in that apartment the cook’s cries came from. Cries. The heck were they doing to him, to make the stubborn ass to even let out a sound? Zoro throws himself at the door, not caring that it might be open, but freezes as something sharp lays against his throat. Damn it! 

“Now now, isn’t this our dearest knight in shining armour, or should I say; pirate?” speaks a scratching voice into his ear, fallowed by an ice-cold laugh. Damn, he’d been too reckless. Moving a hand slowly down to the hilt of his katana, fingertips barely touching as he felt the knife press harder against his throat.

A new horrified scream ripped through the air and Zoro make to move, but the knife pressed warningly against his throat. “Why the hurry? You’ll get plenty of times with him soon enough.” The man snickered and played with the knife around his throat.

“Let. Him. Go!” Zoro threatened. The man snickered.

“You really wanna see him now, swordsman?” he said teasingly, as he forced him up against the door. The knife disappeared, but before he could act, he was kicked in the back. “Then go and take a good look at him then!” The door flew open and Zoro barely managed to get his hands out before him, before kissing the dusty floor.

Shaking his head, he tested the wound on his throat. Nothing to worry about. Though, what was to worry about, was the grotesque scene unfolding before him.

In the middle of the room stood a tall orange haired man, operating on an patient bound to an old wooden table. The cries indicating the patient weren’t sedated, far from, and the patient were no other than their missing cook. 

Eyes widened at the sight of the large gash at the middle of the blond’s abdomen. Tears welled out from his eyes, head shaking, body twisting and pulling with all its might to get free, though instead resulting in making the ropes gnaw deeper into his wrists, ankles, arms and shins. Gasping heavily, straining for air, the tall man worked untouched with his small operation knife, a hand rummaging inside the cook’s opened chest.

Sanji’s own hands were pale, nails scraping against the wooden surface.

Zoro were stunned for a couple of seconds, shocked at what he saw. Then he finally woke up and rage fired him up. “Oi!” he called, pulling two of his katanas, though no reactions came but from the blond on the table. “Carrot-head! Leave him the fuck alone!!” He moved fast, made ready to even cut the psycho’s head clean off, but something about the chuckle send chills crawling down his back, awakening an old forgotten memory. Pulling himself together, hating the rising fear, that he so carefully had worked to bury in the dirt, Zoro raised both his katanas.

“Now, what would you then do with him?” carrot-head asked, fully fixed on what he was doing, pulling something there made the cook gurgle and cry out again. Zoro stopped in his execution, but didn’t lower his katanas. His eyes drifted to the man on the table and were met by a single wide blue eye, staring horrified back at him. Sanji were utterly naked, revealing way too many wounds, infected gashes, stained with blue, green and yellow marks all over his pale body. His wrists and ankles cut to the bones by the ropes, still bleeding, but the worst, if he even could say so, were his feet. Scratched and tattered – would he ever be able to walk on those? Unbelievable the man still was alive.

Sanji looked away with shame, hiding a sob as he forced his jaw to spout out mockingly; “Took you long enough, to finally show up, Mari - mo.” Even in a time like this. Bravado were nothing but a cracking shield, the forced smile as he finally looked at him, just as fast disappeared, as the cook suddenly rolled his eyes back and his head fell lifeless down.

“Cook?!”

“Ah aah~, you’re not allowed to die yet, kid,” carrot-head sang as he pulled his hand back out from the cook’s stomach and walked calmly over to a brown bag standing on a table, completely ignoring Zoro’s katanas, there lowered, as he ran to the cook’s side, feeling for a pulse at his neck. None. Or was he feeling the wrong places? It’s hard, with all those wounds. Zoro looked frantically at the blond, but had no idea of where to put his hands to make heart compressions, unless pressing right against his exposed ribcage.

Zoro turned, stepped faster up behind the man, who rummaged through his bag, and laid Wadõ’s blade against his throat. The man mere smiled at it and chuckled. 

“Are we getting impatient, former Pirate Hunter, Roronoa Zoro?” he said calmly. “What would you do after you’ve killed me? Cut the ropes of your friend and run off? Hope he’ll make it till you get back to your ship?” 

“Bring him back, patch him up, then I’ll kill you.” Zoro answered, pressing the blade closer to the skin, threatening to break it. The man raised his hands, in it he had a vial. 

“If you want him to survive, he needs this blood thickening medicine, or he’ll bleed to death.”

“He’s not even breathing!”

“Oh yes he is, weakly, but breathing.” He said, pointing to his own ears “I can hear it, even from here. If you don’t’ believe me, go look for yourself, though, I’ll say he approximately only haves a minute or less, if you keep me standing here.” For the first time since Zoro entered the room, the tall, muscled man looked back at him, eyes locking. “Would you really be able to have your friend’s death on your consciousness, when knowing if you hadn’t killed me, or moved aside in time, he’d still be alive?”

“Patch him up and release him, Hunter!” he ordered, lowering his katanas and stepping aside to give the other space to get to Sanji in time, though, just as he took a step back, he was stabbed in his abdomen by a needle he hadn’t seen. The next he knew, he was laying on the floor, staring up as Hunter stood at Sanji’s side, injecting him with the syringe he had in hand, seconds after the cook gurgled in air of life. 

“Cook…!”

A forceful jolt in the body made the blond’s head smack hard against the table, heaving for breath, Sanji’s hands and feet clenched and twisted in their bindings, as Hunter stood with his hands once again inside of Sanji’s open wound. Then another bloodcurdling gurgling scream tore through the room, as Hunter moved around inside of him, the wet sound of flesh being ripped apart made Zoro feel sick in his cores. And Hunter mere hummed approvingly. 

“Looks like your milt is okay, and the same goes for your lungs and intestines,” he said as he moved his hand further up. 

Zoro furrowed his brows, tried to get his legs to co-operate, to get back up and capitate that psycho. He should had done it when he could. Damn drug. 

“Now, let’s see how your heart is doing, shall we?” 

“Cook…! Shiiit…!” 

Sanji shakes his head, slowly. “No, no more… please, d-do-don’t…!” he begged, Sanji’s voice raw and dry. The cook never begged, it wasn’t in his genes to do so, that bastard!

“Now, we have to be careful when pushing at the ribs, or else-” 

Blood spurted out of the cook’s mouth, almost like a small fountain, before his back hunched once again in pain. “…ups, that wasn’t meant to happen. Let’s see; it must be around your windpipes –ah, here it is; I accidently cut a hole in your windpipe. Let’s see, then we just have to patch it up again. Can’t have that you die before I’ve had my fun with you, now can we?” Hunter grabbed a needle that he had in the near and started sewing, to great discomfort and pain for the cook.

“Stop this.” Zoro ordered, his voice thick of anger, but were ignored. “STOP THIS, I SAID!” 

“And who is going to stop me?” Hunter finally asked. “You? You can’t even stand on your legs, thanks to the drug I gave you. Now, sit still and watch.” His hand went back into the wound, searching for something, he took the small knife and opened the gash even further. That Sanji still was alive was unbelievable, to sustain that much pain. Then his voice changed, the body jerked violently every now and then, the sound of wet meat pulled further apart, the sound of breaking rips, the hand moved around before the jerk stood with a bloodied lump in his hand. Zoro widened his eyes in horror as he recognised what it was.

“Have you ever wished to see your own heart, Mr. Black Leg?” Hunter asked and showed the content in his hand to the blond, whom looked horrified back at the beating heart in the man’s hand. That shouldn’t even be possible! “You can say, literally, that I’m holding your life in my hands.” the fucker joked, laughing as he locked his hand around it “So young, so fresh, so… vulnerable,” and squeezed. Sanji jolted in an instant, gasping, choking on his own air.

“Stop it, you freak!” Zoro roared, finally getting some control of his legs, enough to get up on his knees.

Hunter mere glanced his way, then smirked and clenched harder.

“This, my dear Roronoa, is what a heart attack looks like.” 

Sanji choked, he could see the tears running from those overfloating blue orbs, bristled with panic and horror.

“You’re fucking killing him, damn it!”

Hunter smiled at him, replaced the heart into the panting cook’s chest, whom gulped with relieve, as his heart were allowed its freedom again. He looked pale, deadly pale, cold sweat bathing his whole trembling body, as Hunter operated further with him, investigated him, before, finally patching him back up, and all along Sanji didn’t lose his consciousness. Did it have to do with that injection he got earlier? 

He tried again to get further up from his position on the floor. His legs and arms were as if paralyzed, cramping as he forced a movement. Then suddenly Hunter stood before him, pulling off his bloodied rubber gloves, tossing them aside, as he grabbed Zoro by the throat and slammed him against the nearest wall, his large fist closing all the way around his throat.

“Now, it’s your turn, Roronoa.” It was a promise, and something about those words send a chill down Zoro’s spine, as if he’d heard them before, a very long forgotten time ago. The fist clenched, Zoro choked, his hands unwillingly letting go of both of his katanas, one hand forcing its way up to release the fist.

“Don’t,” Sanji croaked from the table, looking almighty tired, as if at the verge of passing out. No wonder.

“So, this is what I need to break you completely; this youth’s dead body, am I right, kid?” Zoro’s hand finally reached, trembling tremendously, as Hunter’s hand closed tighter around his throat. Any more pressure and the man would break his neck. He tried to pry the hand off, to clench around it and break it, though his strength was returning and his mobility as well, it wasn’t enough. His other hand at the same time moved to Shusui’s hilt.

Hunter figured what he was up to and flung him across the room; sent him crashing into a chair. Shaking his head, Zoro sat up, but as he looked up, he immediately was tackled by what seemed like a giant tiger, who at once dug its sharp teeth into his throat. Where the hell did that one come from? Groaning in anger and pain, he tried to pry the huge tiger off him, though with no such luck. The damn creature was strong and heavy, or he was still weak, thanks to the drugs. 

A rough tongue licked over the bleeding wound, almost as if drinking the blood welling out the deep wound. He kicked it, punched it and kneed it right in its guts, but as he did, he just reserved another bite in his shoulder. 

Another needle bit into his other shoulder, liquid was forced violently into his bloodstreams. Zoro glared to his left, seeing the paw now turned into a humanoid hand holding a syringe. Shit! The tiger had now transformed into something in between a human and an animal. The drug worked fast, he felt drowsy and utterly heavy in his body, as the teeth’s released his shoulder. Hunter smirked down at him with a literally bloodied smirk. He heard Sanji scream from somewhere… crying, maybe? Over him? Did he think he was dead? Zoro made to move, but soon realised that wasn’t an option. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t lift his hand, not even a finger. Did the cook really believe he was dead? 

Hunter pulled away from him, leaving him sprawled on the floor, unmoving. Zoro panted hard, his breathing being forced to a minimum, and watched as the tiger-man walked back to the cook, who was screaming his lungs out to him. 

“Marimo! Get, the hell up! Marimo! Zoro!! Don’t you get near me, you fucker! What have you done? What you’ve done to him? No! Get -!” Turmoil and suddenly the cook were silent. Ropes where cut, he could hear them snap, then fall to the ground. Things where packed into the bag, while Zoro tried to gain his full consciousness to move, to get back up, to fucking fight!

Forcing and by stubborn willpower, he finally managed to roll over and get back on his knees and hands. Almost crawling up on his feet, leaning heavily against a wall, he saw Hunter, standing by the open window, bag in his hand, and in his arms were Sanji. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak and he barely breathed, the scarring chest heaving just the slightest, over him was tossed an old blanket, covering him at least a little.

Zoro felt the rage give him a new injection of strength, as he with a roar got up on his feet, grabbed Shushui and in a drunken run dashed at the two. He planned to get away with the cook, he wouldn’t allow him that!

Hunter smiled triumphantly and jumped out the window from the second floor.

“NO!” Zoro stumbled towards the window, and was about to jump out the same way, not caring that in his bodily state it would even break his legs or even kill him, but as he got to the window, Hunter was long gone… with Sanji.

Leaving out an animalistic roar of rage, he slammed his fist through the window, crashing it and cut his hand open on a sharp cullet, but not giving a fucking care.

He’d failed.

Zoro glares at his bandaged hand, mind slowly returning back to the present, the cooks name as he screamed it out, still echoing in his mind. He had been so close, yet failed. Clenching his hand into a fist, he watches with weird amazement as blood soaks through the bandages. He hadn’t told it to anybody of what he had seen; they didn’t have to know it. The blood on the table was enough for Luffy to know that something horrible had happened. He didn’t remember when the captain came or how they even got out of there.

They lost the trail of both Hunter and Sanji, because he was too slow, to weak and because Luffy chose to help him, instead of chasing after the two. He didn’t blame him though, the option had been slim; loose one, or loose two nakamas. The only one he blamed for all of this, was himself. The distressed look on the cook’s face still haunted him, that terrified, lost look. And then his screams. Had he believed he was dead? Those reactions, those desperate agonising screams for his name.

What did they do to him now? Where is he? Is he even still alive? The baker had said that the ‘victims’ always returned back, but when? And how? 

“Oi! Moss-head! Did you even hear anything of what I said?” 

Zoro shoots his head up at the same he realises that it isn’t the blond. Well yes, blond, but not their blond cook. This one, the one in front of him didn’t belong here, and it only infuriated that he looked so much alike their missing cook, almost like a walking humiliation and reminder of how he’d fail to safe the real one.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey! Don’t clutch your hand like that!”

‘You’re dripping blood everywhere, shit-head! Dry it up yourself before it dries into the table’s wood! You any idea of how hard that is to clean?’ would the cook had scolded. He misses that annoying womanizing lovestruck fool. 

Nicki are next to him, a piece of cloth pressing against his hand, trying to stop the bleeding. “Damn, I think it has reopened again. Shit! You know;” 

‘Now comes the yelling, and after that the kicking.’ Voices Zoro’s inner mind.

“You’re an idiot. Stop walking around and reopen your wound all the time, it never gets to heal properly that way.”

“Hm,” is all Zoro says, not pulling his eyes off the drops on the table, feeling the disappointment well up inside of him. Sanji would be pissed if he saw this.

“Hey, stop! Where the hell are you going?” Nicki calls in surprised annoyance, as Zoro suddenly stands and walks to the counter. Zoro finds a piece of clothes and wets it under the running water from the faucet, before returning to the table.

“Have to wash it off before it dries into the wood.” He mumbles, high enough for the temporarily replacement-cook to hear.

“Fucking idiot, what about your own wound? Stop being so reckless!”

“He would never allow blood on his table.” 

Nicki shuts his mouth and looks away, allowing Zoro to do his mundane job. As he finish scrubbing the surface clean, relieved it wont leave any stains, and returns to the sink, he stops and looses himself once more to his thoughts, something he has done quite a lot lately.

A hand dares carefully to rest on his shoulder, before the clothes is just as carefully being taken out of his hands. “Come, let me take a look at that again.” It sounds in his ear, and Zoro has once again to remind himself of that it’s not the cook, but that cook. 

Zoro pulls his hand away, before this Nicki gets the chance to take a proper look on it, he stares at this imitator, hating his clean resemblance of Sanji. It’s not the man’s fault, he knows, yet he can’t stop feeling freaked out in his presence, and it annoyed the hell out of him.

Nicki sighs and throws his arms over the head. “Look, kid, I’m just trying to help you here! I’m not trying to take his place or anything like that! I told you: I got separated from my own crew and I can’t find them again! That’s why your crew and I came to the agreement that while we’re searching for each of our lost parts, I’ll be helping you in the kitchen while we’ll help each other out! Remember?” 

In a flash he has Nicki up against the counter with Kitetsu against his throat. One visible eye widens in fear, yet he still manages to blabber out in a calm voice: “I, I’ve seen your posters, your bounties – you don’t scare me.” He chuckles, nervously, “I don’t get it. I’ve seen his poster and I can’t see any resembles except his nickname and my last name – unless the artist of the poster has been drunk as hell, then – ” 

The pressure from the blade increases and the blond winces as it cuts.

“Why?” is all Zoro asks.

Nicki blinks in confusion and utters an idiotic “Huh?” Moving the blade just enough not to capitate him, Zoro grabs the blonds’ head and turns it from one side to another, examining it closely. As he moves his fingers to the golden bangs covering the left side of the face, he catches the fearful protest in Nicki’s visible eye, there just as fast dies down as he reminds him of the position of the blade, blood trickling down to the neck of that stupid pink shirt. A groan tells, that the blond isn’t pleased with the staining. The reaction just like the cook’s, whenever he got any hard stain on his prissy shirts. 

Carefully pushing the hair aside, Zoro quickly understands why the blond holds his breath and looks shamefully to the side, though only one eye does this, the other… the other is… 

____________________

Nicki braces himself and tries to calm himself down, while the swordsman stares at his face. No one has ever seen the hidden side of his face, no one ever asked, respected his privacy, or rather discomfort about the subject, like the subject about his shoulder and neck. Somehow it was like they just knew however that could be possible. She hadn’t been able to heal it all properly, had no energy left to do so, had already made wonders giving him back his ability to speak, it lessened the pain, the memories, it didn’t even hurt anymore. What more could he ask for? Some barely visible scars were nothing from how they’d used to look like. His face though, did she ever see it? He didn’t remember, hoped that she didn’t, that no one else did. 

But this swordsman does, he sees, stares at it. Like they had done, back then. Nicki grabs tighter to the counter, as he tries to steady his own heart. Shit! What now? He curses himself for feeling this vulnerable, like baring oneself completely to a stranger.

Zoro’s eyes soothes though, as he tilts his head once again; looking at the nasty scar running over his eye. Nicki gulps at the feeling of the first mates thumb brushing over the rough ripped skin, looking at it in some kind of fascination. He even seems guilty, almost as if he’s the culprit. No. no human had done this. Monsters. They had been nothing but monsters. Like them. He trembles at the memory of it, all of it, he can almost feel the knife slashing over his skin, he can almost hear their disgusting laugher, their pity apology for doing that before they attacked him. 

And then that other memory resurfaces. The room, the lock-down, the building collapsing, threating to crush them. Luckily the refrigerator had been there, but its contents only lasting for so long with fourteen hungry men, and him. They even began eating the raw meat, since the stoves where out of electricity and gas. And that taste of blood drew them mad, or at least the most of them. Only one dared to protect him, as their hunger turned towards him, only one dared to speak up and where shut down and held back. If he didn’t want any of it, he could please shut the fuck up. 

Then they’d ganged in on Nicki, their colleague roaring at them to stop, as they attacked him, held him down, tore his clothes off and sank their teeth into his skin. Taking five hungry bites each. He can almost feel it again, feel as they tore it apart, as they feasted on him. 

Monsters. Hunger turned people into monsters.

Not quite human, they said, so it was okay, they reasoned, it was okay to do it. He barely remembers how he even survived the cannibalism. Only a roar of anger, screams, curses, something breaking and then the roof came down, crushing them all, somehow, he survived, though breaking his legs and right arm. It took days, he thinks, before he was found. A miracle, they said, they’d thought that they infected had got to him, needed to run blood test on him to make sure if he needed surgery or a bullet to his head.

Nicki shivers and almost misses Zoro’s words, as his eyes widens in realisation. “You… you’re blind?” Nicki’s body tenses and he looks surprised up at the swordsman. He hadn’t expected him to talk to him in a that kind of tone. He nods slowly, realising that the blade has already retreated.

“Old… old accident… long story,” he just says, ensuring himself that no one else has heard him. Zoro’s brow raises slightly, indicating that he doesn’t really believe it. Nicki sighs, his heart is pounding, his hands trembling. “I… me and my brother, well, not my real one, we met some bandits when we were little, uhm…” he swallows to wet his throat, Zoro’s dark gaze fixated on the left, blind eye. “They w-w-were after my little brother. I-I t-t-thought that I c-c-could pro-protect him. In short we c-came up in a fight with th-them. T-they t-to-took m-me, and uhm,” he points to his left side, while thumbing a rhythm against the counter with his other, counting. He hates it when he gets his relapses, he hates it when he can’t control his speaking, has to tap a rhythm to be understanded. He takes a deep breath “and did this. They… they took my eye, ripped it out; this isn’t a real one.” He sighs “And then they took him, left me bleeding… but I was found, just in time… We met again, years after.”

“In that world you said you came from?” Zoro asks sceptically, clearly still having a hard time to believe that there exists more than one worlds, or dimensions, even more than one “layer” of each world. He too had a problem to comprehend it all in the beginning he were presented to the facts. “And what about this?” he then ask, pulling the neck of his shirt to reveal that scar.” Nicki pulls the shirt back up.

“That’s… a complete other story.” 

The swordsman stares, though, something in his dark gaze has softened, and Nicki realises that he’s seen those eyes before, belonging to a different person. Then he nods, letting go of the subject, for once showing Nicki some respect, as if he has pieced the truth together. 

“Then why do you look so damn alike?” 

“Hah?!” Nicki furrows his brows, looking perplexed at the swordsman, at the sudden change of subject. “Who says that I look alike him? I’m even two years older than him; therefore, I have more the rights to look like this, damn it!” 

Then suddenly something strange happens. Zoro piffs, before laughing. Nicki looks on with surprise, as the swordsman returns the katana back into its scabbard and shakes his head. “That is the most stupid explanation I’ve ever heard.” He retreats to his chair to study his bandaged hand again, the smile falters. “Who did he take?”

Nicki sighs and takes a seat opposite the swordsman. He really needs a smoke right now. Running his fingers through his hair, he tells him, what he told the others the first day, apparently, he hadn’t been listening. “My little brother, Oliver. Hunter captured him right before my eyes.” Nicki grits his teeth by the memory and almost spits in self-loathing, as he speaks. “I failed him! I promised Anna to protect him, even that I couldn’t handle. Now it’s been three weeks since I last saw him, and I can’t… I can’t show my face to the other without him…” he stops and lets the unspoken speak for itself.

Zoro is about to say something, but gets interrupted, as someone suddenly call everyone’s attention to the deck. Nicki looks surprised around, since he can’t find the source to the voice anywhere. Zoro smirks and throws a thumb over his shoulder. 

“It’s from the speaker,” he informs and then Nicki sees the small intercom hanging in the corner. 

Suddenly he freezes, as he sniffs the air. “That smell…”

Zoro looks strangely at him and calls, as Nicki jumps from his seat, sending the chair scrambling to the floor. He barely registers the heavy stomps from the first mates boots following him, he just can’t believe what his nose is telling him. 

He stops abruptly and stares wide-eyed. His nose hadn’t tricked him.

Because there, walking towards the ship is a young kid, wearing nothing but a single long dirty shirt, on his head is a straw hat.

“Oliver?” He says, almost in disbelieve. Then he sets off, towards the railing, jumps over it and runs to meet the kid on his way. “OLIVER!” He kneels before him, all shaken, he lays his hands on his way too thin shoulders, thinner than what they used to be, it makes a coil in his stomach.

He tries to get his attention again, but Oliver isn’t responding, he isn’t even reacting to his presence. Something about his silent nature, sets off all his alarm clocks. 

“Oliver? Oliver, please look at me. Look at me kid! Hey, you hear me, bro?” His voice trembles as he shakes him lightly, and finally the kid looks at him from the shadow of his straw hat, its blue ribbon tattered and dirty. Nicki’s heart skips a beat as the shadow of the hat reveals a pale, beaten, sunken face. His normal lively eyes are empty. shaken he pushes the fire-red bangs from his face, clutches of dried blood makes it hard. Yet still, Oliver does not react.

They hadn’t given him a lobotomy, had they? The mere thought tears out a shameful sob, he can feel the tears, as he with a desperate hope whispers his friend’s name again. The fuck had that son of a bitch to Hunter done to him?!

Then, Oliver finally reacts, as he turns his empty blue eyes to his. “Who…” he croaks with a dry voice. 

He hears Nami’s gasp, Zoro’s hiss and Chopper’s panicked squeak. He has seen it, the blood running from the thighs, pooling between his legs, soaking Nicki’s pants.

He mumbles something incoherent, and then he’s off, following the trail of blood. Chopper grabs Zoro’s arm before the swordsman even thinks about following the captain.

Nicki blinks. He must have misheard what the kid before him just whispered. Everything stills inside of him. “Wha… what?” he manages to breathe out in disbelief. Oliver stares with his cold empty stare

“Who are you?”

 

~To be continued~


	7. Horrified visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the lost has been found…

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
Please wait for me!  
Don’t let the red colour on my shoes belong to you,  
Please don’t let the silence  
be your only voice.  
Please be alive… and stay alive!  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

7\. Chapter   
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Horrified visions  
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The sounds of sandals echoing through the lonely streets, messaging someone’s hastily arrive. He almost stumbled, as he frantically searched each street corner, each alley, while following the trail of blood. He stops for a moment to catch his breath, looks behind him to see the red sun sink into the ocean, bleeding out into its waters, for soon to disappear into its deep, drawing long darks shadows. Streetlamps blinks into life. The has almost ended, soon it’ll get harder to follow the trail, and tomorrow the streets will be washed clean, from the rain Nami predicted were to come.

He looks at where the first drops had fallen, and at the streets stretching before him. It had brought him to the other side of this town, yet not any near its borders, so if he believed his gut feeling, and that had yet not brought him wrong, Sanji would be near this area. 

Why suddenly releasing that kid? He knew it could be a trap, obviously a trap, or maybe even a lead? Why let him bleed enough to make a trail back to this place?

Leaning a hand to the wall, he watches the dying sun. Tomorrow it will be reborn from its sleep.

Is Sanji still alive? He has to believe it, his gut tells him he is, so it has to be true. Even though those horrid rumours spreading about this Hunter-guy, and from what he’d seen in that apartment complex, he had to believe. He had been wandering in the complex, after waking from the gas-attack, back then. Seen the rooms, what they contained, feared that the same destiny had befallen his two friends. He had been running, searched, scanned the dead bodies for a turf of blond or green. None. Not before he came to the apartment at the second floor.

He might act naïve, but he knew, or had a horrible idea, when he saw the table, painted in crimson red, the walls nearest tainted as well. He had stepped up to it, his hands atomically moved to run over its surface. Some of the blood had still been wet. Then he saw the broken window, and the he found his first mate and best friend, laying unmoving at the floor. Blood trailed down from the sill and down to the still form. But no blond hair in sight. No Sanji anywhere to be seen. He’d hurried to Zoro’s side. Alive, but, from the size of his pupils, he’d been drugged. And the gash on the hand could soon become vital.

Cheaters were dangerous, even for strong men such as Zoro.

Luffy closes his eyes. 

Zoro had been taking the fault of Hunter’s escape with Sanji, even that Sanji had ended in that situation in the first place, but getting reasonability through that thick skull were close to impossible. Luffy knew that from himself. 

It had been more than two weeks since they last had seen their shipmate, three weeks and four days if counting the days since the incident at the Inn, and still, no sign of him. 

Drying away the sweat collecting on his temple, Luffy blinks, as he looks at his hand, feeling the slight wetness. It takes seconds, before realising the wetness from the wall hadn’t been old moss, but blood.

A handprint, larger than his, fingers longer than his, the print almost fully dried.

Heart beating faster at the desperate hope and growing panic, he looks at his hand, places it next to the print, tries with his other hand and sees where the handprints thumb turns. Left hand, thumb pointing to the right. Right. The direction right before him. He runs, looks around for any more clues – yet another handprint, a trail of something being dragged over the dirt on the ground. It brings him to the last house of this street, a handprint grabbing the edge of the house, a smear at the side leading into a dark alley there split the long lines of houses from each other. This one is still very wet.

There is no light in there. He squints his eyes, as he steps into the darkness. Fourth step brings his foot into a pool. It hadn’t been raining in days, and the feeling as he lifted his foot were thick and sticky. Closing his eyes for a moment, he tries to get used to the darkness, and then opens them. The moonlight is enough to give out its surroundings, even in here. He doesn’t want to believe what he sees. Blood, literally everywhere, as if someone had been attacked by a wild beast, or as if someone had gone ballistic with a knife - even a sword would leave a cleaner place. 

Then he finds what he has been looking for in all this time. Disposed among the stack of disposal bags, as if nothing but trash. The first steps are careful, then he moves fast and then, halts.

The strong smell emitting from the still body makes him hold his breath, or is it the sight of his twisted limbs, broken and torn open?

Luffy falls on his knees. Trembling fingers brushes through dirty once golden blond hair, plastering to the all too pale face. He’s cold, ice cold. The pale smooth skin has almost turned white, the lips almost bluish. He leans in close, tries to control the growing tremble and the wetness collecting in his eyes, as he lays two fingers against his neck, searches for a pulse. There are none.

“San…Sanji…?” he breathes out, a lump forming in his throat. “Sanji…” He’s been too late, again. Hand moving up to his chef’s naked shoulder, he hesitates, before grabbing it and shakes. “Sanji…! Sanji, wake up! Wake up, Sanji, please wake up…!” he orders, his voice on the edge of cracking. 

He drops his head and clutches his cold shoulder. 

He does not want to believe the inevitable, but there is no running from it. 

Again, he has failed.

“Lu-luffy…?” A faint gasp, almost inaudible, he almost misses it, almost believes the wheezing breathing is something his mind tricks him to hear. Eyes widens as he realises that the midnight blue orb stares right back at him, then his chest moves in an agonising exertion, to drag air into its lungs and fought just as hard to breathe it back out. 

“Sanji. You’re… you’re alive!” it bubbles out of his chest.

A red tongue licks around dry broken lips, a smile, weak but there, crawls forth.

“… ‘course…” Sanji croaks and almost falls back into his deadly slumber. Luffy grabs both of his arms, the contact sending a jolt trough the teen. Even his arms? “Sanji? Stay with me! You’re safe now. I’ll, I’ll get you to Chopper and soon you’ll be back in shape and be cooking and kicking again. Right, right, Sanji?” 

The blonds’ eye rolls, vision swimming, before focusing back at him.

“Soz…”

“Don’t apologise,” 

“Lu… Luf-fy…? I… can’t…” 

“Yes you can, now stop talking!” He can’t take that voice, those tears, the regret and shame shining in that visible blue orb. Luffy takes off his white oversized T-shirt, that he had taken from Zoro, and carefully pulls it over the blonds’ body. Sanji winces and chokes out a sound, supposing to try hide the pressing screams lying just underneath the surface, each time he moves him.

The he wraps his arms around him, carefully, twice, trice, supporting both back and knees, as he takes off back down the streets, grits his teeth for each time Sanji hisses in pain, and hopes that he won’t screw it up this time. 

A trembling almost ghost white hand moves to his bare chest, clutching for support at the invisible shirt. Luffy speeds up, teeth grounding hard, for each time that hand clutches harder at his chest. It was hard though, to keep a high speed and at the same time being careful not to harm his chef more than necessary.

“….tired…” He just catches the blond groaning, and looks down for a second, only to find Sanji loosing his fight to the comfortable deadly sleep. 

“Stay with me!” He says, speeding up, wishing for the chef’s long legs. “Stay with me, Sanji!” The mere mention of his name makes said person look at him. He doesn’t like that finally accepting smile. “We’ll make it!” He says “We’ll get you back on your feet. We’ll take care of you, Sanji. Just… stay with me!”

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

“Who are you?” that’s all he said. 

Nicki taps the ash off his cigarette and takes another long drag as he stares at his black shoes, Oliver’s words swirling in his mind. He leans back in the chair, one foot rocks it carefully back and forth. It’s been some time since the sun has set. Closing his eyes, his thoughts immediately wanders of to the past, back when they were kids, when they met again, the apocalypse, all that stuff… and now.

Chopper is still in the infirmary tending to him, even the first mate hasn’t come out yet, since the reindeer requested his presence. 

“Who are you?” 

Those words won’t stop bugging him. Rubbing his neck, he throws the butt of the cigarette over the railing and stands. He need something to distract himself with. Brook’s on watch anyway, however a skeleton with no eyes can even see anything is beyond him imagination, but... he should know by now that practically anything is possible, even in this world.

A soft wind blows in his face and together with it a special scent. He sniffs and smiles. That could perhaps help him to relieve his stress a little. He walks up to the railing to confirm that his nose weren’t wrong, neither this time. A young rabbit apparently has got itself lost into these areas, far away from the forest. Oliver used to love rabbit steak, perhaps some food would start help him remember a little. They did say that often memories were tricked by food. 

He starts to unbutton his shirt, when suddenly the wind brings him another scent… something he has smelled before, overpowered by the heavy stench of blood. The smell getting closer. Glancing around the harbour, he soon sees the source of the smell. Widening his visible eye, he almost stumbles as he turns and calls for the first mate, pulling everyone else’s attention but his. He jumps up the stairs, hurries to the infirmary and flings the door open. “ZORO!” He gasps, looking bewildered around. Chopper jumps, screaming behind Oliver’s back and even the green-haired teen jolts in surprise.

“What the hell? What the fuck is wrong with you, copycat?!” Zoro barks.

Nicki stays quiet, frozen in his movement, as he stares at the kid sitting up in the bed. “O-Oliver?” he tries carefully. The kid looks at him, empty, still no recognition. “At the harbour,” he says quietly, as has the words to be spoken, before his brain remembers his intrusion again. Then he looks at the first mate, who looks at him, as if he has lost his mind. Perhaps he has, but hasn’t in the world he comes from? “Zoro, out on the deck, now!”

“Huh?!”

“Luffy’s back! And he has someone with him!” the urgent in his voice, makes the first mate’s eyes widen, before motion responds him, mouth open but soundless, as Zoro moves pass him, just as Usopp’s voice bellows from the railing, exclaiming that Luffy is back. Nicki follows after him, ignoring the curious look from Oliver. He seems so innocent and naïve, now when he remembers nothing of back then. Maybe that’s even good?

“Oh my god… is, is that Sanji he’s carrying?” they hear Namis horrified voice, hands covering her mouth. Zoro skips the last few steps, Nicki doing the same, as the first mate immediately steps into character.

“Nami, go inform Chopper to make another bed ready! Usopp, you go help her!” he orders. Both still in shock, but does as told. “The rest of you; go back inside. Robin? Would you pull the copycat out from there,” he points over his shoulder at him “and tell him to prepare some proper meal, if he can find out of that?”

“Oi! I do have a name, you know! And just ask me! I’m right fucking here!” Nicki bellows, though he’s already rolling his sleeves up, while Robin answers her confirmation, and lays a hand on his back, gently escorting him to the kitchen. He looks one last time back at the first mate, who hasn’t even taken his eyes from the emerging captain and their apparently their lost chef, while running through his mind what the heck he should make to bring back dead people to life.

\--TOBD--TOBD--TOBD--

Everyone scurried off to make everything ready for the two, while Zoro stood his grounds, waiting their arrival. He found him, from what he can see from here not in the best shape, since the kid is carrying him, but he found him, finally. 

“Zoro-bro,” he hears Franky calling from the galley, the question hanging unspoken in the air.

“I’ll handle it, Franky, thanks.” 

The cyborg hesitates for a moment before calling back. “Just call if ya need anything!”

He rises a hand, and the galley door closes.

Now he can hear the approaching of the fast tapping of Luffy’s sandals. 

Zoro frowns. Something is off. The cook’s apparently more than just hurt, at the look of panic at their captain’s face, the shouting only confirming it.

“ZORO!!” he calls, terrified. “Sanji!! He’s… Sanji’s not breathing!!” The words spearing right through his heart, something churned inside of him. 

“What?” he calls back, as Luffy runs up the plank, gasping, crying, carrying a bloodied, half naked cook in his arms, the sight twitching something inside of him.

“He’s, he’s not breathing! Zoro, he’s not breathing!” 

“Get him down!” Zoro instructs, as his suddenly remembers something his sensei once taught him. Reluctantly, Luffy does as told, carefully laying the bloodied blond down. Zoro kneels, surveying the body before him. Where to put his hands? Even the T-shirt Luffy had borrowed from him were already completely soaked in blood. He didn’t wear anything else, ergo, Luffy had found him completely naked. 

He can feel the rising rage. No one showed such disrespect to anyone, not even to your enemy! Tilting the head back to make free airway, he lifts the soaked shirt, it is just as he thought. There’s nowhere to place his hands, without hurting the cook even more, the chest looks as if ripped to pieces, he even could see some of the broken ribs stabbing out. Fuck! How the heck to do this? Even where he has to work the pressures, there’s still a nasty infected scar. The memory of the beaten heart taken out of this cook’s body, no wonder that he’s…

Leaning his ear to his chest, not caring of the soaking blood, Zoro shows his hand up to the blonds’ mouth, only to confirm that no air erupts from his bluish lips. 

He has to try.

Zoro places his hands on top of each other, five fingers over the pointing bone, then makes his first pressures. The chest sinks, ribs breaks even more, as he pumps, cursing and counting in his mind, hoping that for each pressure won’t turn and stab the heart he tries to work life back into.

Chopper comes rushing as he leans down, closes his nose and holds his jaw as he connects their lips, breathing in a big amount of air. He watches the chest move, five blows, five rises and falling. No response. Counting five fingers down his chest, one hand above the other, as he counts each pressure again. Tilting head back, freeing airways, closing around nose, blow in. 

Repeat. 

He can hear Chopper rummaging with something, voice quavering as he says something Zoro doesn’t catch, he’s busy as it is.

Repeat.

“Oh my god,” He hears Nami gasp.

“Nami! Get. Luffy. Back. In. Side!” he says between each pressure and then leans back down to breathe in air. He hears her answer, but of course Luffy refuses. Stubborn kid! “Oi cook!” Zoro breathes as he starts pumping again. “Breathe! Breathe, god damn it, BREATHE!!”

“Luffy, I need you to get me that oxygen-machine we bought at the previous island.” Chopper then says “Nami can help you show where it is. It’ll help saving Sanji’s life!” That did it, and Zoro glances up in time to see the leaving back of their captain and navigator, silently thanking their small doctor. Then the kid turns his way. “Hey, Zoro,” the graveness in those words makes him grit his teeth.

“I freaking, know, Chopper! But we, have to, try!”

“But…!” he almost pleads, the tears almost dripping from his words.

Zoro growls. “Damn it! Breathe! Breathe cook! Fucking hell, Sanji, BREATHE!”

A heaving gasp followed with a fit of coughes. He stares in disbelieve, then remembers to stop. Chopper’s right next to him in his monstrous form, helping laying Sanji onto his side, though that only troubled his breathing even more. 

“Zoro! Support him from the back and hold him so he leans to the side! I’m afraid his left lung has collapsed, we can’t have him suffocating on his blood as well!” Chopper instructs and Zoro does as told, still not grasping the reality that the cook actually is alive! He honestly thought… but apparently miracles still does exist. “Luffy! Hurry up, we need it now! Or it’ll all be in vain!” 

Luffy jumps down the stairs with the machine on his back, a large smile plastered on his face. “YOSH! I’m coming, Sanji!”

 

~To be continued~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My debut roman has finally been published "De Frosne Minder" and are already selling well. Now I've startet the translation of the book into "Frozen Memories" there's planned to be out this summer in English.   
> Therefore chapters can happen to come out slow.


	8. Gazing upon a single Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In where the fight and healing begins...

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
You’re like a star on the sky;  
So clear and shining…  
So close, that you can almost be held in my hand,  
Yet so far so that I can’t even touch you…  
Are these feelings good or bad?  
And what is it?  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

8\. Chapter   
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Gazing upon a single Star  
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The stars are beautiful tonight on this cloud-free evening. Oliver stares up at them with a childish amazement, legs crossed, hands wrapped around thin ankles, before his gaze falls on the plate before him. He’d made his favourite dish; roasted bacon-wrapped rabbit with roasted potatoes glazed with red wine sauce. Nothing but finger food, the kid loved to dip both the meat and potatoes in the sauce and savour the taste, before chewing it down. Like now, Nicki realises, as he watches the kid hum a tone of satisfaction.

“This is SO GOOD!” Oliver exclaims and shows one up to Nicki “You HAVE to taste some!” Nicki chuckles, snuffs his cigarette to hide the rest in his pack of smokes, and steps up to take the offered meat. How’d you got on this idea? It’s SO great!” Oliver continues and keeps on while digging into his dish. 

They’d said he’d gotten a concussion there led to an amnesia. He didn’t even remember his own name, and this obliviousness almost made him a whole other joyful person. He hadn’t been treated the way like their shipmate in the infirmary, who now fought against a high fever, thank God. Chopper had checked, though he’d gotten a strange look from Oliver at the request to make an intensive examination. He’d been beaten, yes, but not… that.

Nicki takes a seat right next to his friend. He looks at the glazed rabbit leg he was offered, smells to it and then bites. Yes, it tastes just like his.

“You know, this might sound strange,” the kid says watching the sky above them, as Nicki cleans the tender meat from the bone “But this somehow feels familiar.”

Nicki looks at him surprised, then smiles fondly as he lays the licked bone amongst the others on the now clean plate. 

“Neh?” Oliver turns his way. A star is shining in his bright blue eyes. He wants to reach out to grab that star and hold it close, for never to let it go again.

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

He’s in pain again, wrenching his body in the bed as he clenches his teeth, trying to bite the aching. Yet another attack. Chopper says something incoherent, as he gives him yet another dose of sedation, a higher dose than last time. Apparently the cook somehow has grown resistant to low dosed medicine. Not waiting for the medicine to take fully effect, the small doctor once again cleans his hooves, for then to continue patching, as he called it, the complex wounds. 

They were all gathered, inside and outside the infirmary. Yet another sniffle comes from Nami, as she stands close to a comforting Robin and a very silent Usopp. Brook and Franky is at the door, only the whisper of the crying violin is to be heard, playing the tune of feelings they all feel.

And then there is Luffy. Zoro doesn’t need to look to know, that the thick antagonism hanging in the air comes mostly from him, and himself. Ever since the cook started breathing again and got that oxygen mask over his face, the captain had barely spoken a word.

“I’ve never seen anything this complex, even Zoro’s wounds are a child’s play compared to this.” Chopper sighs, as he switchs to another tool and grabs the needle with the thread there would dissolve after a couple of weeks. “I can sew the muscles back together, but there’s barely any layer of skin to close the wounds up with so it can heal faster.”

No one says anything, only the atmosphere gets graver at those words.

As he sighs and stretches in his full high, Chopper is finally done with the upper torso, the arms and the back…now he only needs to check down there. Zoro tightens his grip on his arm, as he stands in the corner arms crossed, watching every movement with high intensity, and it doesn’t help his mood either, whenever the wench jabs about how it’s all her fault. Her fault? They were all at fault at accusing the blond for something he hadn’t even control over, no less his own fault. He should know the cook well enough to know the man could hold his alcohol, and if getting too much, he’d mostly just sit quietly and smile his stupid smile while giving compliments to everyone with boobs and long legs, before finally falling asleep. Never anything near like that evening.

The cook gulps and hisses, as Chopper carefully touches the leg there were bent in an inhuman way. Just looking at it hurts. Chopper only hesitates for a moment, before he lays both hooves over it and feels it up. The cook goes three shades paler, while Chopper’s expression goes three shades darker.

“It’s not only broken, it’s completely twisted out of its socket.” he informs them “I have to make an operation on his leg as well. I pray that none of his ligaments are torn, if so…” He looks at them all before he speaks again “it will crave a miracle for Sanji to be able to walk again.” 

A sniff is heard outside the door, the violin almost halts. 

“Can you fix it?”

“Huh?” Chopper looks confused at Zoro, even Luffy blinks at him, apparently taken the words out of his mouth. 

“Can you fix it?” he repeats.

“Uh, ungh!” The little reindeer answers and nods. “It will take some time, but…” he trails of and looks pleadingly up at the archaeologist who nods knowingly.

“Come here, Navigator-san, I think it will do us good to get some sleep, that way we can be more of help if Chopper needs us.” She says, as she guides a broken Nami out of the room. Brook catches on fast, Franky as well, who reaches in to close the door, but halts and looks at Usopp to follow. Usopp drops his gaze and then looks at their fever-stricken cook, panting in the bed. He’s about to protest, as Zoro lays a hand on his shoulder. He looks almost pleadingly up at him, but knows that there’s nothing to say, and sighs in defeat and nods. As he’s at the door, he looks at Luffy, whose gaze are fixed on the blond in the sickbay. Then he turns and Franky closes the door after him.

“When the anaesthesia starts to work in a few minutes, I need you to hold his leg.” Chopper says, as he places a now empty needle aside, and looks at Zoro. He says nothing but does as told. As Chopper gives him the sign, Zoro takes hold, while the doctor grabs the broken leg, makes sure one last time that the local anaesthesia is working by prodding to the knee, nothing, and then with a scalpel he cuts the knee open. The blond hiss and groans in discomfort.

“Oi,”

“It’ll never be able to work a hundred percent when it has something to do with the nerve system, therefore, make sure you have a good hold in him now, this’ll hurt!” Chopper explains and takes a deep breathe. “Hold tight!” He repeats, as he grows into his monstrous human form and pulls some more fitting gloves on. He grabs around the shin tightly, holds his breath and with a finger he presses it into the wound and forces the bone out of its socket, while twisting it back in its proper place. Sanji doesn’t scream, he screeches in pain. Chopper has already given him a high dose sedative, painkillers and whatsoever, if he gave him anymore, he’ll kill him instead. The choice between plague or cholera, so to say. 

Zoro winces, just the look of it, and those sounds make it coil inside of him and scrape against his bones. “Don’t let go!” Chopper orders and presses the kneecap back into place. The blond lets out a moan of pain and shudders, as Chopper keeps his finger in the wound. “I need to work through the ligaments to test their sturdiness.” He explains, as if he can read his mind, and frowns. “This isn’t good. It’s not cut all the way through, but close.” He mumbles to himself, so that only Zoro hears him.

“Chopper?” Luffy asks worried, more than he already is, nails close to tearing through the skin of his own arms.

“It’s only held together with a very thin string. I have to be careful with this, very careful. Luffy, please help me. Wash your hands and give me a needle and the threat over there.” Luffy is already at the sink, before he can finish his sentence, happy to finally be able to do something other than just stand and watch, and gives Chopper what he need, who with high carefulness pulls his finger back out and begins closing the muscles back together, before closing the wound. Luffy grabs whatever their doctor needs, while Zoro keeps his hold at the trembling leg. Then they both gets ordered to hold the broken leg carefully and instructed where to hold, while Chopper carefully lays gypsum around it. The whole leg gets packed in. Zoro watches the reindeer’s eyes as he works, and he sees it, the worry of not whether it’ll heal or not, but if Sanji ever will be able to walk after this. 

As Chopper finishes his work, he doesn’t hesitate to begin with the next “project”, even though it’s clear how tired he is, no wonder, he’s been working first on that kid who’d lost his memories, and right onto Sanji. That’s more than eight hours. But breaks can be fatal, he’d told them that once before, back when Zoro needed a heavy patch up after a nasty wound were inflicted on him after a fight with some marines.

Chopper lifts the bedsheet enough to take a peek, then gasps and pales.

“Chopper,” Luffy says, dangerously low “tell us the truth. Have they… have he been…” He knows it, or at least he has a flight suspicious about it. 

Chopper nods sadly. “Yes, I’m afraid so, and pretty badly as well.” 

Zoro groans and can’t hold back anymore. He lets out his frustration on the wall, he doesn’t even hear Franky complain about it. For the first time not caring if he should punch a hole right through it.   
Chopper pushes the cook’s other leg so it bends – the other already supported up with ropes so it can heal properly, without stressing the knee too much as well – to get a better look and work more freely. He doesn’t like the grave frown on the reindeer, as he spreads the cook’s legs carefully further apart. Whatever else he did, made the blond flinch and cry out in his drugged sleep, his body trembling and twisting to get away from his touch. Chopper swallows hard. “His… they hurt him pretty bad, both places.” He says.

“How bad?” Zoro asks this time. Chopper looks at him, he barely has to say it.

“Really bad,” Chopper sighs and turns back into his smaller form “to tell you the truth, it’ll be a miracle if I can patch him properly up in there.” He looks up at the cook’s pain strained face, and then looks back down. “They’ve been pretty rough with him, in more than one way. It’s clearly that Sanji have fought his fight to avoid the inevitable.” His hooves trembles and he clearly does his best to keep his tears at bay.

“Those bastards…!” Zoro hisses. 

“Chopper, do your best,” Luffy says, clearly trying his best to keep his rage under control “And what we’ve seen or talked about in here, stays within us three.”

No need to tell it twice.

The small doctor goes around to find what he needs, then returns with a bottle of some salve, that he smears around on the outside and the inside of Sanji’s anus. The cook sighs and seems to relax, as the medicine starts to work. Five minutes pasts, exactly, Chopper are even watching the clock over the door, before he starts to operate. 

Minutes pasts, both Luffy and Zoro keeps their distance as the reindeer had asked them to do – this was too private for Sanji, they both knew and respected this. Sanji though, had finally fallen asleep. As Chopper were done, he once again took a blood sample and checked it up for the third time.

“Zoro, back when you found him in that building, you never told us what happened. may I ask; what did you see?” Chopper finally says, and Zoro suddenly feels very guilty. If he only had used his head properly and acted fast, the cook wouldn’t be in such a state as now. “Did they drug him? And that wound on his chest,”

“He broke his ribs and pulled his heart out.” Zoro finally admits, practically spits it out in spite. He doesn’t have to look to know their horrified expressions. “Don’t ask me how he survived that, but that Hunter-guy gave him some kind of blood-thickening medicine,” he recalls, the scene back then as clear, as had it only happened yesterday. Chopper nods with a hum. “And, I’m not sure, but there was a time where I had the feeling that the cook couldn’t see me, or anything at all, and panicked.”

“How did his eyes look like? Any kind of description; was the pupil large, small, did they look white, red or normal colour?” 

Zoro shakes his head. “I don’t know for sure, I didn’t get that close to him, but I think that they were normal coloured, after what I could see at his one eye.” Zoro points to his own eye.

“Some kind of a drug that goes in and irritates the nerves in the eyes, and therefore disturbs the sight and vision of it... Not knowing how it works like, it’s hard to give an antidote against it, like; is the vision blurred, white, sharp, watering or completely black. Lucky it seems to be out of his system by now since he could see Lu-”

“I didn’t say that he could see me,” the captain protests, not looking up from the cook’s face. “I said that he responded when he heard me.”

“Oh,” Chopper says disappointed and goes utter quiet after that.

It’s almost four o’clock in the morning before Chopper finally are done, and almost collapse as he sighs in satisfaction. Luffy grabs him before he hits the floor and holds him in his arms. 

“You did great, Chopper,” he praises and gives him a proud smile. “Sleep tight.” Chopper mumbles some incoherent words, before he’s fast asleep seconds later. Luffy smiles calmly and walks to sit next to Zoro on the floor, arms around Chopper as if he’s a comforting teddy bear. Zoro keeps his act as if sleeping and hears the rubbery arm stretch, before a feeling of a blanket being tucked around him. Quirking a barely visible smile, he waits, until he hears the undefinable sound of soft snoring from both of his nakama, before opening his eyes. He looks at the sleeping cook, turning in his fever-stricken dreams, mumbling incoherent words.

“Hey Whoa! What the fuck? Stop freaking touching my ass all the time, grass-head!”

The memories of the last day before disappearing keeps returning back. They fought, argued as per usual, but only afterwards has he realised how angry the blond had been, when he thought Zoro had been touching him, almost panicked. 

“The hell, cook?!”

“Stop fucking touch me all the time, you damn pervert!”

“I wouldn't even want to touch someone like you anyways with a fire poker!”

Those words had perhaps been to cross the line, ‘cause Sanji had suddenly silenced. Instead of starting a fuss over it, or even a bloody fight, he just walked off after kicking the table. Had those words made him walk in the opposite direction of the ship? 

Zoro rarely regretted anything, but this, saying those words, accusing the blond for his stupid drunken behaviour. He had been blind, hadn’t thought straight, hadn’t given it a single thought of Sanji’s behaviour being more than unusual, even out of character. The cook wasn’t like that, he reminded himself again. It was actually the only time he was tolerable being around without all that cursing and nagging to fight. He was nice to be with, it was the only time Zoro and Sanji could have a normal conversation, without biting each other’s heads off, if he wasn’t fast asleep for that matter.

The memory of Hunter standing with the cook’s beating heart in his hand, resurfaces, as he squeezed, sending a choking jolt through Sanji’s naked body. 

And then that expression of giving up the want to live, instead wishing for anything to end the horrible pain, an expression there didn’t belong to the shit-cook that he knew so well. Normally, even in the most horrible of times, he fought, kept pushing, kept burning with that dangerous fire of his. Sanji is a fighter, to see a strong person like that, slowly dissolving before him, hurt deep inside of him.

Zoro wakes from his deep thoughts, as he hears a wet splat. The wet cloth to cool the cook’s feverish head now lays on the floor. He’s gasping, wrenches in his sleep, fingers working in the sheets, seemingly having a nightmare, hopefully it won’t lead to another attack.

Zoro rises from the floor, careful not to wake the two others, they need their sleep, and walks up to the sickbay. He collects the wet cloth from the floor, cleans it in cold water from the faucet, before replacing it back on the cook’s temple. 

He halts. An urge to move the sweat covered bangs aside from the cook’s face overwhelms him. His right hand is already moving up to it, while his mind debates whether or not to do it, and moves underneath the golden bangs, carefully running his fingers lightly over the hidden part of the face. 

He freezes as a hand shoots up and grabs his wrist.

Sanji looks at him with a tired painful expression. Even as drained as the cook is, he still has strength in those fingers. 

“Dho…” the cook pants “don’t… don’t touch me, please, don’t…” The grasp around his wrist loosens, before a single blue eye rolls back in his head. “…please…” the cook begs, breathing even faster than before “…don’t…” Even so, Zoro can’t help it and dares to move a finger to touch the skin underneath the bangs. Then he understands, as he feels the gnawed flesh of a scar, running from the hairline, over the closed eyelid and only stopping right before touching the chin. This scar isn’t new.

He wants to see it. Even though the cook told him no, he now, more than ever, wants to see it with his own eyes. But for the cook’s sake, he kills his curiosity and places the wet cloth there instead. He needs this privacy, needs to know that he has it, though, the wisp of curiosity still wants to prod about its history. 

Zoro’s about to grab himself a chair, but he’s stopped as the hand still hasn’t released him. It’s trembling, as if afraid to let go, yet not knowing for sure if holding on is okay either. He’s looking at him, yet can’t meet his eyes. His proudness of a man has been crushed. Being… treated like that, it’s horrible enough being a woman and be treated like that, but as a man being treated like that… because they couldn’t talk about it, their pride didn’t allow them to talk about it, and in these times, if it came out that a man had… that, then they were taken for nothing but a weakling, not a man, even less than the dirt they stepped on. A man was supposed to be strong, to protect themselves, was the world’s twisted sight on humanity. Idiotic. Man or woman, it didn’t mean anything, it was just as horrible for both parts, why is it worse for a man than a woman? It didn’t make them less human.

Zoro kneels next to the sickbay, allowing the cook to feel that safety, knowing that he’s there for him, that he doesn’t think less of him, never will, none of them will. Closing his eyes, he listens as small sobs breaks the silence, the hand trembles and reluctantly almost apologetic pulls away. Zoro sighs and lays his own hand atop the cook’s and pats it. Sanji halts, a blue orb looks his way, yet, it is as if there’s no recognition in them. Then he sees it, the milky membrane.

“Oi, cook?” he starts, careful not to wake the two others, the blond shakes his head, a sob escapes his lips, his breathing increasing. Zoro squeezes his hand, as he tries to swallow the growing lump in his throat. Seeing the cook like this, hurts, this… what is this weird feeling? “Oi, shit-cook, it’s me.” 

Sanji shakes his head. “No… no s’not, possible. You’re not… him…”

“Why the hell shouldn’t I be me?” Zoro blurts out and mentally slaps himself. 

“You’re not… he’s, Zoro’s…”

“What am I? An Idiot? Yeah, I know but-”

“…dead…!”

Zoro widens his eyes. “Huh? Shit-head, I’m not dead!”

“He’s dead… he’s dead…”

“I’m not dead god damn it!” Zoro growls - what the fuck had they been telling him?

“He’s dead… I saw it… he killed, him…” Sanji pants, clearly still in a lot pain.

“No, look! Cook, look at me! Look at me, Sanji!”

“Zoro, no!” Chopper suddenly squeals, apparently waken from his loud talking, as Zoro grabs the blond’s head, and forces him to face him. 

“Look! Look at me! I’m not dead! Come on, cook! Don’t be that stupid! Look!” 

“I, I can’t – ”

“Yes, you can!”

“No, I mean, I can’t… I can’t see, really.” 

Zoro sighs. That’s what he feared. Chopper tries to say something, but he ignores him. 

Sanji gasps, as if suddenly going into panic, and tries to pull away from him.

“No, listen to my voice,” he says and grabs his wrist, bringing the hand up to his face, it takes a while before the hand gets it and dares to touch, his jaw, his chin, the corner of his eye, his hair. Zoro swallows. “Can you tell?” he says and releases his hand fully, giving the blond full access to explore and recognise. The other hand came up, following his jaw, feeling at his cheekbones, his nose, Zoro closes his eyes as trembling lean fingers brushes over them, feels out the structure of his face. He can’t help the growing feeling inside of him, the unknown warmth as long fingers meet short soft hair once again. He’s aware of the beating of his heart increasing, his mouth drying out, the desire to lick his lips. 

‘The heck, pull yourself together, Roronoa!’

Suddenly Sanji freezes as realisation apparently hits him.

“I’m not dead, cook!” He says, and carefully opens his eyes “Whatever those fuckers said or did, it was a lie.” Sanji immediately retreats his hands, and immediately Zoro grabs them before they get too far and replaces them on his face. “I’m not dead!”

Zoro winces as nails digs into his cheeks. The blond looks up and now, there’s a change again, the milky membrane is gone, that blue orb has its deep ocean colour again and looks directly at him, carefully calculating as if it’s really real, then it widens and blinks. 

“Ma… Mari - mo?” 

He barely gets to sigh in relief, as that same eye suddenly rolls back into his head and suddenly it’s as if he’s in agony. 

“Shit-cook! Oi, cook! Sanji!” Zoro shakes his shoulders, but Sanji does not respond, a jolt, and abruptly he screams. Zoro are suddenly forced to the side by an over-sized teddy bear, as Chopper, now in his human form, steps in to aid the cook. 

“His temperature has increased. His pulse is too high.” Chopper says. Damn it!

“Another attack?” they hear a drowsy Luffy ask, as he rubs his tired eyes from sleep. Chopper nods.

“I’m afraid so. I can’t give him any medicine yet, it’s to close to the previous dose, he could be intoxicated if I did.”

“Then why is he hurting?” Zoro asks. Chopper looks at him. 

“There is even pain that not even medicine can cure,” he says and sighs. “We can only hope for the best.”

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

“I can't believe I let this happen.” 

Someone says, the voice somewhere near him. Who is it? Kelp-head? The beat of his heart drums loudly in his ears. It feels, as if he’s boiling from the inside. Is he having a fever? 

A soothingly cold hand takes hold of his hand, the touch makes him relax both mentally and physically. He tries to open his eyes, but he can’t, he feels too exhausted, and honestly, he almost didn’t care. Because, who would really care if he woke up again or not? If it really is his nakamas, how would they react when they find out what he is? A fucking faggot-whore! Such things are normal not acceptable on any ships on the sea, if caught, the captain would banish such kind of people, or in some occasions, execute them!

He loves women, he adores ladies… but… twenty men or so had… with him… then what did that make him?

How would Luffy react if he knew? How would Nami-san and Robin-chan react? 

Zoro would properly kill him as soon as he finds out.

Swallowing, he can still taste blood… and that! He can feel a sob scratching its way out of his chest. Fuck, he’s pathetic.

“…ji…” someone’s speaks again. “…San…ji…” 

No, he can’t let the marimo see him like this, no one can.

“Open your eyes, Shit-cook!” 

No, he knows, doesn’t he? Can he see it? Sense it? Smell it? Sanji tries to move, but his body feels heavy and every muscle hurts. 

“Open your shitty eyes, damn Curl-brow!” 

Sanji shudders. 

He knows!

“…Roronoa? You need to eat…!” another voice interrupts, one he hasn’t heard before, or somehow he has.

“Get the hell out of here, Copycat!” Who? A sound of something being placed on a table is heard.

“…the hell you always after me? Just eat… you haven’t eaten in five days…” 

Zoro growls annoyed. “Haven’t been eating in three weeks before… can handle this as well…!”

“And what if he won’t wake u-” 

Sanji flinches as a chair clatters to the floor, a loud bang is heard. The voice there speaks, runs like icy water down his spine. He can’t really make out the words, but the marimo definitely sounds pissed. What if he didn’t wake up? Wouldn’t he? Did he want to wake up? 

“…you almost talk as if he’s your lo-” 

“One more word from your pathetic excuse of a mouth, and I’ll rip your tongue out with my own hands!” Zoro sneers angrily. Who is that idiot to spit idiocy out like that? “Got that, Copycat?” 

Then nothing, or, there is something, a mumble, but he can’t figure out what’s being said. Curiosity getting the better of him, Sanji moves and makes it to open an eye. He sees the back of Zoro, holding someone against the wall at the throat, someone who looks like… him? 

A single blue eye looks surprised at him from a curtain of blond hair, mouth agape.

“Wha-?” is all Sanji gets to say, before a jolt of pain spears right through him, all the way through his spine. He screams, he can’t hear it, can’t hear anything beside that rapid drumming of his heart, but he can feel it tear out of his throat.

His leg hurts, his chest hurts, his head, his throat, his eyes, his back…

Someone yells something, he can’t really hear it, it is, as if they’re yelling under water. Then someone comes to hold him down, to hold him still, and he panics. He lunches at whoever is near, whoever he can hit and apparently hits someone by the feel of it.

A prick to the arm, something gets injected into him, and, after what feels like hours, the pain finally subsides, and finally he can relax… and sleep…

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

“Damn shit-head! Look what you’ve done!” 

“It wasn’t my damn fault! It’s just you who has some kind of problem with me!”

“Just stay the hell away from me, you freaking copycat!”

“STOP IT!” Two heads turn his way, anger radiating from him. “Stop this, damn it! It’s enough!” he tells the blond and the green-haired man, both looks surprised at him. Luffy throws a fast glance towards Chopper, who’ve given Sanji some kind of medicine there made him relax. But he seems a bit too relaxed and Chopper… Chopper seems a bit too panicked.

“Chopper? What’s with… Sanji?”

“He’s not, he’s not breathing anymore. Suddenly, he just stopped!” their small reindeer doctor whimpers. 

He sees the horrified reaction in Zoro, who stares blankly at the wall behind Nicki, before both relaxes fully and looks at the still blond in the sickbay.

Luffy steps up to Sanji in two long strides and grabs his shoulders. “Sanji, no, not again! Don’t do this again!” 

“Oi cook!” 

“Don’t.” He hears Nicki say, “He can’t keep on waking up every time this happens.” 

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Zoro growls and rips his arm apparently out of Nicki’s hold, as he steps up to them. Just as he’s right behind him, and he shakes Sanji for the umpteenth time, Sanji suddenly starts to breathe again. Luffy sighs in relief.

“Good, Sanji, don’t do that towards us again.” He says, just as he hears his first mate mumble something alike, a hand to his heart, as Luffy lays Sanji back down onto the mattress and watches the rise and fall of his chest. Zoro lays a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“He’ll be okay.” The first mate reassures, though it’s not to say if he says this to him or himself.

“Sanji’ll be fine soon, right Chopper?” Luffy says, plastering his best smile he can gather to calm his friends. Chopper seems conflicted at first, but then nods and returns the smile.

“You see, Nicki?” Zoro then says, as he turns to look at the stunned blond, still standing against the wall. The mention of his name for the very first time on the first mate’s lips, made him almost gape in disbelieve. “We don’t give up on our friends. As long as we breathe, we’ll fight for those we care for, because we know they’ll do the same, you get that?”

Nicki nods verily, but can’t seem to gather anything coherent to say in return, other than: 

“Touché.”

 

~To be continued~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your Kudos and reviews, it always makes me happy to see, when people enjoys my reading.


	9. That word…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the awakening isn't as excepted...

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
Memories can be both   
good and bad  
…but sometimes it’s just best to  
never to remember.  
Sometimes it’s best,   
To stay in the unknown darkness  
And never wake up.  
Am I wrong?  
Perhaps I am…  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

9\. Chapter   
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
That word…  
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Counting through his reps, Zoro finally has to give in to his exhaustion, the floor quaking as he levels his custom-made giant version dumbbell. His knees quivering, muscles shuddering, he’s been pressing himself way too hard, again. Laying on the floor to catch his breath, he can feel the dizziness playing at the back of his mind. He hasn’t been eating properly lately, what I underlined by his growling stomach, leaving an empty feeling in its wake.

He should probably not thank “no” whenever he was offered food, but whenever it was presented to him, the hunger was gone, and even trying, he could only get down a bite or two.

He hears the door open and close. Bare feet pats softly against wooden floor, before a tray is placed right above his head. As the steps didn’t retreat, he cranes his head as far back as he can, only to be met by a tray of food, a glass of water and a little glass of pills, behind stands a pair of legs. 

“I don’t need that.” he says, though it only let to another tray being placed beside his, before the owner of the legs sat down. Stubborn kid. “Tell that copycat that I’m not -”

“I made it.” 

Zoro looks questionable up at the raven kid, fire-red bangs get moved behind an ear, while a too proud smile grows from ear to ear.

“You can cook?” he says in disbelief.

“Apparently, I can, yes!” the kid says, ocean blue looks expectantly down at him.

Zoro then turns fully around onto his stomach and points down at the tray. “You did this?” Oliver nods.

“Yup!”

Already knowing the kid was as good at telling lies as Luffy, Zoro sighs and sits up properly. Staring down at the tray, he looks sceptically at the small glass of medicine and points at it. Oliver flushes in an instant. “Uh-uhm, I-I went into Doctor Chopper’s infirmary and found some medicine there’ll help you…” he says and looks away. Zoro quirks a brow.

“You got the medicine for me?” Oliver nods. “Does Chopper know?” He shakes his head in shame. “Why?” 

“Long story…”

“Tell!”

Oliver literally debates whether or not to answer that. “Would you eat the dinner I made, if I tell you?”

“Yeah, I’ll eat.”

“Promise!” Zoro blinks, then shrugs.

“Whatever. Yeah, I promise, that I’ll try.” Oliver sighs and then takes off his straw hat, presenting it to Zoro, who looks confused at it. “Your hat told you?” he jokes dryly.

“In a way,” 

Zoro stares intensely at the kid and waits for a deeper explanation, surely, he isn’t sitting with a talking hat? Lately he’d gotten pieces of his memories back, and apparently, the first memories were about that thing. Oliver lays his straw hat in his lap and fumbles with the rim of it. 

“It’s not a normal hat, nor a straw hat…”

“It’s not… a straw hat?” Zoro looks down at it again. “Looks pretty much like a straw hat to me!”

“Ah, wait! I’ll show you!” Oliver suddenly says enthusiastically and jumps to his feet. “Look, look!”

“I’m looking,” he would’ve said, if not the strawhat suddenly disappeared in a pouff, as the kid hit his hand against it, and changed into some other kind of a hat that he’d never seen before. It more looked like a blue-green bag pulled over his head. “What the…?”

“You see?” Oliver says with glee. 

Zoro raises a brow at it, after he had put himself together again. “So? Doesn’t explain how you-”

“Over exercise of a human body can lead to a slow process of self-destruction as the humanly organs not always can follow up with the training. In worst condition it can lead to fractured ligaments, coronary thrombosis, heart-attacks…”

“What the hell?!” Zoro bursts out, as the kid suddenly has gone into some kind of Chopper-mode, and just like the reindeer, he can’t stop talking when first started. He slaps a hand for the kid’s mouth. “I got it, I got it, geese you’re a babbler!” Oliver smirks at his obviously growing confusion.

“Farce two!” he pronounces and shows two fingers. Closing his eyes, Zoro catches something shift inside of them as he opens them again, and as he speaks, it’s with the voice of their navigator. “Zoro! You’re already so far behind with your debt, that I almost feel sorry for you. But! I might cut off five percent if you’ll eat some of the food Nicki’s prepared for you!” There’s even that sneaky glint in the kid’s eyes, like that sea witch when she tries to extort him.

“Ten percent and I’ll reconsider it.” He answers by habit. He can feel Oliver’s smile grow against his palm, before the kid steps back and takes off his hat. Smacking it against his hand, it turns once again into an old straw hat in a cloud of pouff. “So, you can imitate someone’s brain and voice?” 

The growing grin didn’t bode well, as Oliver steps closer, reaching for his head. Zoro grabs the significantly smaller hand, and once again he wonders how old this kid even is. He grabs the other hand as well, as it tries to reach for him as well. 

“I just want to show you something…” Zoro swipes his head around, as he suddenly hears the kid’s voice behind him, even though he’s standing right before him. A single hair gets plucked from his scalp, it hurts more than it should and he’s about to give his complain, as he freezes in an instant at the sight of a second Oliver behind him. 

“What the fuck?”

“As soon as I took on my hat, I started to remember a new thing as well,” the Oliver behind him says, standing with a strand of green hair in his hand.

“Isn’t it great?” the Oliver in front of him says gleefully. “I’m starting to remember more and more, each time I take this one on!” 

“Uh-uhm, yeah… that’s good,” Zoro says and scowls at him. “But warn me the hell next time, before you do crazy shit like that!” Both Oliver’s starts laughing.

“Okay then,” The Oliver behind him says.

“But I need my hands,” the one in front says, “or I need to pluck a new strand of hair.” Zoro lets go of him in an instant, not wanting to lose any more hair. His stolen strand of hair get transferred from the one to the other. The Oliver before him looks intriguingly at it, before nodding. The copy disappears into thin air. 

“Okay, look!” Oliver says, almost showing it up in his face.

Zoro quirks a brow. “Yeah, that’s my hair.”

“As long as this part is intact,” Oliver continues, ignoring Zoro’s comment, and points at the white root “I can use the hair, but it all has to happen inside of thirty seconds, else the hair is useless.” He turns his straw-hat and ‘sews’ the single strand of hair into the hat. Zoro looks strangely at him, as for a second, he catches a small ‘glow’ inside the hat as Oliver pulls his hand away. Smiling, Oliver puts on his hat. “You see, this hat is a special ‘art’ from an old hatter, Master Yellow, who a long time ago found some special plants to make a new hat. He soon realised, after lending the hat to a writer, returning the hat, he had the same knowledge as the writer of stories yet to be written. Apparently, the plants could absorb a human’s strength and knowledge out from a single strand of hair.”

Zoro doesn’t know what to say, but startles, as Kitetsu suddenly are pointed at his throat. He hadn’t even sensed nor seen the move, glaring at the kid, he sees the same expression mirrored in his now dark blue eyes.

“Taking a strand of your hair gives me the possibilities to use your power.” Oliver says once again, though the tone of his voice has gotten deeper and more serious. “From the time you were born and until the second I pull it and sews the hair into this hat, there can read the techniques that you’ve learned in that period of time, out from a single hair,” the blade presses against Zoro’s throat “I can imitate your knowledge.” He retreats the katana and hands it back to him. for a moment, Zoro felt uncomfortable alerted in the kid’s place. Oliver sits and pulls off the straw hat with a sigh. “It’s just a bit tiring using it.”

“Uhuh…” Zoro answers and wonders why Kitetsu felt so quiet all of a sudden. He sheets her and places her back together with the others up against the long sofa. “So… you can use it whenever you wish?” Oliver looks tiredly up at him and nods. 

“Yeah, but it’s always good to get a new strand of hair whenever possible, so you can get the newest techniques with ya. But I can only use it for about three minutes at a time. Using it longer than that, hurts my head.” He says, pointing to his head “The bad thing about it is, that I can’t get the same strength as the person who I took the hair from, only the knowledge of the techniques. Therefore, I have to train to get stronger and use the techniques on their highest levels -!” a yawn breaks him off. Zoro nods, somehow understanding what the kid’s saying. Oliver sighs tiredly and leans his head against the sofa, closing his eyes.

Zoro looks down at the plate of food, then takes the fork. A promise is a promise. He just catches the kid’s smile, there grows, as he tastes the delicious juicy meat of the sea king they caught yesterday, eyes widening. This, this was actually good, almost at the level of the cook’s… almost. 

“You two close?” Oliver suddenly asks, looking at him.

“Huh?” Zoro looks confused at him. 

“You and that blond, Sanji, right?” 

Zoro only halts for a moment, somehow the question hits him deeper than it should. Then he continues eating. “We’re all nakama, practically family, so yeah, we’re all close.” He answers.

“But especially him?” 

Zoro halts.

“That hat-thing of yours, it abstracts strength, you said?” Oliver nods. “And all kind of knowledge?”

Oliver ponders. “knowledge, yes, but not memories.” Oliver scratches his head, as if to figure out ow to explain himself better. “It gains knowledge from what we’ve learned, battle experience, schooling, such kind, memories in the muscles and the nerves.” he taps his head “our inner memories, the personal ones, thoughts and such, is a place I never can gain access to. It sounds weird since it’s all in our head, but still, knowledge and memories are stored in two different places. Like… like when our body goes on autopilot or when something is trained so much into our muscles, that they act of their own. Memories from the heart, so to say, I can’t touch.” 

Zoro hums, pleased with the answer, yet, the question still seems to hang in the air, he tries to ignore it, but the kid’s stare doesn’t help any of it. Sighing, he finally has to give in.

“Cook’s been missing for a long time, a lot of bad things has happened to him, and I feel partially responsible for it.” 

“Why do you think that?”

“What are you, my shrink?”

“No, just curious.” 

“So… nakama. What is it exactly? Luffy calls you all nakama a loot. I understood it means closer than friends, almost closer than family but more distant than, like, lovers? Really really close family-friendship, right?” He says thoughtfully. 

Zoro grunts and rubs his head. “You make it sound wrong and more complicated than it is.” 

Oliver just laughs. “Sorry, I’ve heard I got a bad habit with that. But you must be really close friends since you’re overdoing your training and way too often refuses to eat.”

Zoro lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, a tender smile itches at the corner. “Is that so?” he asks, not sure if it’s to the kid or himself. He takes the glass of water, nips at it to wet his throat, takes the pills. He empties everything on the plate and soon lays down to catch a well needed nap. Even through closed eyes, he can sense Oliver’s stare at him, before the kid finally open his mouth again.

“Why you think it’s your fault? You didn’t do all those bad things to him.”

“No, but I could have prevented it from happening, if I just had listened and acted.” Zoro argues back. Oliver grunts and shakes his head.

“Nicki’s just the same,” he suddenly says “he thinks what happened to me, is his fault, what they did to me… and such…” Zoro looks at him.

“And such?” he presses.

Oliver nods carefully. “I…I just don’t remember what actually happened. And… I don’t remember him yet, but after what I understand from him, we should be really good friends, and have known each other for a long time… just don’t get it why I don’t remember him.” he bites his lip slightly and gnaws, as he tries to remember more… though apparently fruitlessly. Zoro closes his eyes, but only gets a couple of minutes, as the kid suddenly speaks again “Zoro?”

“What?”

“Can, I, uhm… will you train me?”

“Hmm? Why?”

“Because I want to be able to defend myself even better, and not worry others as much.”

“People will always worry, that’s the part of human nature when you care for someone.” Zoro opens his eyes and looks at the kid, really looks at him, before rolling his eyes and making him it comfortable on the floor. “But whatever, sure.” He yawns. “Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.” He barely manages to finish his sentence, as he’s suddenly bombarded from the side. “Argh! The heck?” Zoro tries to pry the kid off him. “Oi! Rule number one; Don’t touch me!” he tries to use more force, but he was as easy to get off as Luffy with his arms draped thirty times around him. “Rule number two; my domain, my rules, not following them, I’ll kick you -”

“Thanks! I’m just so happy!” Oliver says and burrows his face deeper against his chest. Whatever he wanted to yell at the kid, dies down. Zoro swallows hard, even living at a ship with people who liked to be quite close to each other, he still feels uncomfortable with hugs and the likes. Even though, he ruffles Oliver’s hair, masking his own nervousness. 

“Okay, okay, fine! Just get the hell off me already!” he complains, once again trying to pry the laughing octopus off him. “GET OFF!!” 

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

The first thing his mind register, are a constant annoying sound, somehow synchronizing with his own heartbeat.

The second thing he register, are the devastating smell of medicine, enough to make his nose cringe.

Where is he? At a hospital? 

The last thing he remember, he was running, from someone… or something. The rest is a blur. 

Sluggish pacing stops near his head, before, what he can only guess is a wet clothe disappears from his forehead, not seconds after it returns, cooler. It makes him unconsciously sigh with relieve. He wants to go back to sleep, yet something tells him that he should wake up now, else… else what?

Opening his eyes are a crucial task in itself, it feels like hours when he finally manages to crack an eye open, and the sharp light greeting him makes him wince. Moving a hand to shadow his eyes, something falls loudly to the floor, the sound torturous to his poor ears. Slowly adapting to the sharpness of the waken world, he soon recognises the surroundings as to be Chopper’s infirmary at the Sunny - but that couldn’t possibly be true? Is he really back at their ship? Back home? A shadow looms beside him, a shocked Usopp stares blatantly at him, hands wide open, that explains the insufferable noise of a bowl falling to the floor. 

“Yo.” Sanji croaks lamely, the sharpshooter though doesn’t react. He motions to sit up, what he soon realises isn’t a good idea. Yelping, a sudden sharp pain shoots up through his spine.

God mother fucking of a – shit, that hurt!

“O-oi! Easy! You shouldn’t move!”

“No, kidding?” Sanji hisses sarcastically.

“Just, uhm, uh, wait, stay still, I will, I’ll get… CHOPPEEEER!!” Usopp scrambles out of the infirmary as if there’s fire in his ass. By Rodger! The level of that sharpshooter’s voice! Looking down at himself, his leg is in a gypsum, hanging in a rope to destress it. His head falls back onto the pillow with a groan. Great! Just what he need; a freaking broken leg to boost his already shitty mood!

Not even a quarter of a minute later, he’s greeted by a thunderous scream calling his name, and others begging the other not to do what he intends to do – Sanji has already a bad feeling about it and two seconds later, a flash of red and black strikes past, crashing through the door opposite, leading in to the kitchen. He’s surprised, not for the typical catapulting of their captain, but that the following loud crash sends his heart beating faster up in his throat, his body jolts anxious. A furious loud Franky follows after, lecturing Luffy for his recklessness and smacks the grinning fool over the head for almost ruining the door. Somehow Usopp ended on the ‘flight’ and crawls mumbling from the kitchen. Soon after comes a yelling Marimo in with a - was that a kid? - hanging around his torso. 

The whole scenario normally would make him smile, maybe even cackle of finally being back home, instead he feels the opposite. It’s the sounds, there makes his hands tremble nervously, as they pull the blanket over his head, isolating him from the chaos around him. His heart is racing, he feels panicked as horrible images suddenly plays in his mind. Images he can’t remember having seen before, sounds wrenching from his deepest core, echoing as screams from his memories. And then the sight of blood. The smell of death, rotting bodies, vomit, sweat, medicine and blood. 

A tiger’s yellow eyes shines in the night, gleaming with bloodlust. 

He’s running, running from that thing. Panicked, horrified, crying, screaming. A flash of black and yellow, a roar and teeth sinking in his as claws tears him apart.

He can’t feel his hands, only see them paling as they tremble in the sheet, his throat is locking up, he’s gasping for air, but for each time he tries, his throat feels as if swelling up. A thick layer of sweat covers his skin, he’s shaking everywhere now, he’s feeling cold and warm at the same time. 

He hasn’t even realised how quiet the room has become, except the constant increasing beeping, before a hand lays on his shoulder. He jumps at the touch and feels ashamed at his reaction right after. Then, that deep calming voice again. A voice he somehow has heard before, somewhere, in his dreams, he thinks, but he can’t figure out who it belongs to. 

He’s surprised how it calms him, his breathing slowing down, as the voice keeps talking serenely to him. as he slowly relaxes, though his hands still trembling, another voice speaks to him from the other side of the darkness. It sounds like Chopper.

“Sanji?” the doctor asks worried. “Sanji, can you hear me?” 

“Look what you’ve done!” He hears his beautiful Nami-san hiss to a mumbling Luffy… no, that’s right, not his… Zoro’s Nami-san. He sighs deeply by the thought, the sadness weighing his already heavy heart. He wants to disappear, to wake up from this screwed up horrible nightmare. He wants everything to be, as they once were.

As he feels the sheets slowly being pulled away from his head, he starts to feel himself panic again. No-no-no! Too early, too early! He can’t let them see him like this! He hasn’t managed to rebuild the mask he needs to face his friends with, he’s done it so many times before. This one, this face is too pathetic, this version of him. Like they’ve always said, his brothers, his father – no, don’t go down that road again! 

Swallowing hard as the sheets agonizingly slow gets pulled off him, as if the someone knew he needed the time to recover himself before showing his face. Steadying himself, masking his fear with a sneer, he pulls the rest of the cover off. 

“The hell, you’re noisy.” He croaks, hoping to dear God that his nervousness isn’t audible in his voice. The moss-head stands before him, not an expression to read on his fucking stooped up face, his hand still clutching the white cover, beside him stands a raven-haired kid together with a worried looking Chopper. Luffy soon comes in sight.

“You okay, Sanji?” He asks, his voice deep, quiet and serious, the opposite from the one he had as he catapulted into the room. Sanji grumbles as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair. Huh, still trembling.

“Could you shit-heads not be a bit louder? I don’t think those in East-blue, could hear ya!” Sanji croaks sarcastically, sighing dramatically. His throat feels as if he’s been eating sand.

Luffy’s smile cracks his face, while Zoro rolls his eyes. 

“Che! Welcome back, asshole!” the swordsman says a bit restrained. Now, that’s a surprise.

“Shut it, moss-head, don’t force yourself to puke kindness!” Sanji smirks, satisfied at the visible growing anger on the swordsman’s face, as he looks sharply back at him. Good, this he can handle, not that other shit.

“The fuck was that, cook?” the man growls back.

“It’ll only leave a mess, and it’ll stink,” he clears his throat again, annoyed that his voice almost disappeared upon him for a moment “though that’s nothing new, when it comes to your stinking walking cadaver.” The man lunges forward grabbing his undershirt and pulls him close. For a moment Sanji feels a flicker of fear emerging from that action, but he snuffs it out as fast as he can, hoping that the ever-watching swordsman, didn’t see it. If he did, he certainly didn’t show it. Good.

“The fuck was that, cook?”

“What, gone deaf?” he plays back.

“Careful or I’ll whip the floor with you, dartboard.”

“Bring it on, muscle-head. I can easily put you down with one leg.”

“Che! I don’t fight cripples.”

“What? Afraid to lose to one, stick-boy?”

“That’s it!”

“Okay, you two, knock it off already!” Nami bellows, pushing the two of them from each other, whipping the moss-head over the head for good measure. Luffy snickers “Not in the infirmary, not as long as Sanji’s still is having one broken bone!” Nami lectures “or Chopper’ll either faint after all his hard work on it, or he’ll break it even more himself, or in fact; not ever anywhere, got that?” 

“Yes, Nami-swan!” Sanji beams, even furious, she’s beautiful, and the sight of her fills him with joy. He forces to keep the face, forces to keep that happiness on his face, forces to laugh as Luffy tries to sit on top of the marimo’s head, just because he apparently had seen the unknown kid do it, whom in return threatened the captain on the most cruellest way if he ever dared to try. Teasing the marimo feels easier, though the fear in the distant were etching closer to his heart; whenever those dark eyes laid upon him, whenever they watched him or whenever the man or anyone for that sake made a too fast a movement, he froze or jerked in place. He tries to ignore it, tries to play it off as not being anything special and wishes for dear God that no one saw the small quirks slipping.

Though, the glimpse of worry, pity and guilt in their navigator’s eyes said it didn’t go completely unnoticed. And he saw the look she shared with Robin-chan. They knew, they all knew, didn’t they? Damn it! 

Chopper instructs him to turn around so he can listen to his lungs, though without agitating his leg too much. Sanji hisses as the cold stethoscope makes contact on the lower part of his back. It hurts, just the smallest of movements, even sitting up hurts. But he can’t get any painkillers though, it’s not been two hours since he last got some, Chopper informs him as he catches his discomfort. 

He looks up as he breathes the way the doctor tells him to, watches the wall before him, the doorway and then, his eyes lands on her. Nami-san are as lovely as ever and he wants to tell her that, or just something, but every time he parts his lips, nothing comes out. She isn’t even looking at him anymore, no, she’s looking at the swordsman, who didn’t give two berries for being looked at like that. He’s a lucky son of a bitch and he doesn’t even know it. Sanji sighs, breathes out as instructed. He feels the darkening hole inside him grow, his mask already harder to keep, the small cracks harder to hide.

“And a third thing,” Sanji remembers Zoro’s dark voice bristle right behind him, back at the Inn, after that day. “Keep your hands away from my fiancé! Got that? Keep away from her!” 

His… fiancé. Nami-san’s Zoro’s now, and he can do nothing but wish them all the best in life, while ignoring the ever-growing hole in his heart, a hole there left nothing but a coaled shadow of its previous being.

Chopper prods him, touches practically everywhere and asks if it hurts. The hell it hurts! His whole back hurts. Just moving the slightest was incredibly painful. Chopper sighs and tells him that he might have hit his tailbone hard, which was the one of the reasons for that his back hurt like it did and why he can’t move properly. The other reason the small doctor doesn’t even have to say, he can read it in the doctor’s big, hazel-brown eyes. It was because of that too.

Two ocean-blue eyes suddenly stares right into his, Sanji looks surprised at the kid – Oliver was it?- as he tilts his head, making his long fire-red bangs cover the half of his face, then tilts his head to the other side, exanimating him with the biggest of interest. 

“What?” Sanji croaks. Then suddenly the kid’s face cracks in a large smile. 

“You look almost alike!” he says, his voice quietly and a bit more mature than a kid his age. “Except the eyes… and the brows, his is a bit thicker and not that curly –it actually looks funny!” he says not with mock, but more like fascination.

“O-oi,” Sanji protests, still not accepting the last statement about his eyebrows. Oliver just smiles, until a hand takes hold of the collar of his shirt and hoists him up, until he’s in eyelevel with a glaring swordsman.

“You! If you won’t take it easy, I’ll promise to make real of my threats!” Zoro warns. “And then there’ll be no more training for you!” Oliver pales and Sanji actually feels sorry for him. “Got that, Kid?” Just as the word escapes Zoro’s mouth, Oliver’s face turns bright red in an instant.

“I’m not a damn kid!” The raven literally spits in the first mate’s face. Zoro furrows a brow and dries the spit away. “I’m at least at the same age as Luffy!”

“He’s not twelve, kiddo!” Oliver’s eyes thunders and he grabs Zoro’s collar as he yells him in the face.

“WHO THE FUCK TOLD YA THAT I’M TWEVLE?!” 

“Oi! Stop fucking yell in my ear, kiddo!” Zoro roars back. 

“Then STOP calling me a KID!”

“How, how old are you then, Oliver?” Chopper asks quietly, trying to stop the two from starting a fight. Sanji swore his heart almost took a leap up through his throat, again. Huh, the heck just happened there? 

Oliver blinks a couple of times before looking surprised at the small doctor, not expecting the interruption. “Uh, sixteen, I guess.”

“Whaat?” Luffy says in surprise.

“That’s a fucking lie!” Zoro states, making the kid glaring at him again.

“You’ve started remembering, Oliver?” Chopper interrupts, again trying to save his infirmary from becoming a victim of two brainless idiots eager to fight. Oliver’s mouth moves and Sanji realises he doesn’t even pay anymore attention to the conversation. He feels tired, really tired. Suddenly Chopper are shooing the others out of the infirmary and he barely catches the others wishing him a good sleep. He’s being helped down onto his pillow, Chopper says something but he doesn’t catch it and he doesn’t like the frown on the reindeer’s face.

He wakes up, unsure when he’d even fallen asleep. Chopper sits at his table, talking to himself as he writes in, apparently, Sanji’s journal. Sanji keeps his awareness a secret as he listens to the young doctor dictating what he’s writing. It’s interesting, seeing this professional side of the reindeer, though as he keeps listening to what he lists down of observations, Sanji feels more and more dreadful.

Apparently he got more wounds than first expected, scars there’ll be visible, bones broken in places there made the kid dread the day he would try walk again – if he’d ever would! With such complex fractures, it wasn’t to say if it’d be a possibility. He feared for Sanji’s reaction if he found out and Sanji already felt the devastation. Of what use would he then be on this ship, if he couldn’t help out with anything on board? Yes, it’s true he’s used to do something constantly, it was rare he gave himself the luxury to relax, and when he finally did, he was so fatigued, that it was more than often he fell asleep, slumped up against something. 

“Along with the growing unseen scars,” Chopper continues, oblivious to Sanji’s awareness “it isn’t to say what the future will bring. Hopefully Sanji’s mental stability will be as it once were, but from what I have observed today, the nervous reactions, I am worried if that will ever be a possibility.”

Sanji closes his eyes and ignores the growing sting in his heart, as he tries to forget what he’s just heard.

He’d seen it, his reaction, of course he’d seen, how many of them had caught onto it?

He falls asleep to the sound of Chopper padding around to turn off the light and the feeling of his heart breaking piece by piece.

 

~To be continued~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you know I am currently working on the translating of my book "Frozen Memories" from Danish to English. Therefore I am looking for a hell of a good fast reading beta-reader who wants to help me. There will of course be a once time payment, since it's about 480 pages, there'll be paid after the job is done plus a printed version of the book, signed.
> 
> Please replay if you can help me, or knows someone who can.
> 
> Write to me at: contact@pernilletoveboldemann.com
> 
> Wish you all a Happy Easter!


	10. Little child in the night…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zoro acts before thinking… again...

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_  
Whispers in the night,  
Telling me about my life and death,  
Making me lonely and cold,  
I need someone to hold me tight.  
Where are you, when I need you the most?  
Where are you, voice in the night,  
Who could calm me   
And pull me out of my nightmares?  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

10\. Chapter   
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Little child in the night…  
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Fuck, it hurts. 

It hurts not being able to do the things that once were so easy to do, those things you never gave a second thought to, because you just could. It was nothing.

But it is something.

Something big, there’s only to see when no longer possible to do.

Now, he can’t even go take a piss without asking someone to help him up the stairs. He can’t even stand on his feet, without being reminded how it feels to get your nerves burned, all over again, having an eight pounds gypsum on as well didn’t make it any easier. He can’t even sit straight for long, before he has to go lay down. He can’t even go take a smoke to calm his nerves, without having his doctor yelling at him, reminding him of how bad his lungs actually are. Well, to hell with that, he just wants a smoke, even if it kills him.

He’s bound to a chair to just sit there and watch as the others jumps around, having fun, work, fight, watch as they climb the railings to get the sails either up or down when a storm were approaching or subsiding. Whenever the good times came, he’s tied to the chair, so he won’t get hurt, the chair there is tied to something, so it won’t topple over and hurt him even more. The worst thing is that he can’t even cook for his crew, his main purpose on this ship, the one beside smoking there could distract his mind from shit-thoughts, he can do nothing now, nothing but being in the way of the others, nothing but to be a burden. He can’t even have a nice soaking bath without having someone near him to steady him up so he could wash himself – that he in the least he could do. His hands are still functioning, the blow to his back or whatever shit had happened to it, had ruined something at the third or fourth vertebra, meaning; he can’t walk, he barely can stand or sit straight without support. He’s just happy that he in the least can control his pissing, if he couldn’t even have done that, well… to fuck with it all.

And then there were the dreams. The nightmares there kept on haunting him even in the daily light, just as soon as his eyes were closed, those horrible pictures would show themselves, again and again, and again. Those fucked up memories.

Whispers in the night ran like ice along his spine, prickling in the back of his head as the whispers became even louder, but none understandable… whispers from his memories, whispers from his past. Sanji pulls closer the one leg there weren’t broken, adjusting it so it laid right, ignoring the burning sensation in the lower back yelling at him to let go of the leg. But he ignores it, slings his arm around it, leans his head onto the knee as a second support as well and clasps his hands over his ears, as his heart’s pace speeds up and his body starts to shake uncontrollably again. Whispers still being whispers but being louder for every second that went, and soon it evolves into small words.

Dead bones in the night,  
Ripped flesh, bloody sight,  
My teeth hungers for your sweet taste,  
Wanting to rip and tear your body apart!

Dead bones in the night,  
Dead man in the sight,  
I will hunt you till the end of life,  
Drinking the last droplets of blood from your neck,  
Licking your sweaty temple,  
Eating your juicy flesh,  
I will hunt you, till you’re dead!

Dead bones…

“Stop it…” Sanji mumbles, the words repeating itself in his head, his breathing becoming ragged, his hands starting to tremble more irrepressible. 

…hungers for your sweet taste,  
Wanting to rip and tear your body apart!

Dead bones in the night…

“Stop it!” he screams, wanting the voice to shut the fuck up, stop reminding him that rhyme that he always whispered to him, whenever he saw him, whenever he tested him, used him, tortured him, fucked him. Cold beads of sweat forms on his face, his heart thumping painfully against his ribcage. The dark night seems to become more menacing; the air he breathed, was heavy for his lungs to breathe, cutting like small knives inside his throat. He presses himself closer up against the wall, presses his hands harder against his ears, hoping to dear God, hoping in the name of Rodger that it will soon stop, that it will leave him alone… leave him alone… leave him alone!

…Licking your sweaty temple,  
Eating your juicy flesh,  
I will hunt you till you’re dead!

Dead bones in the night…

“STOP IT, GOD DAMN IT!” he cries out loud, enough. Enough! He doesn’t want to be reminded each and every fucking night about that! Leave him the hell alone already!

Dead bones in the night  
Ripped flesh, bloody sight…

He screams, tries to drown the words, those horrible words, that chanting there always brought him to back then.

A hand on his shoulder makes him flinch, he stares at the crumbled sheets, not daring to look up, not daring to see if the nightmare once again became real, if the nightmare had found him to finally destroy him, he can already feel the claws dig into his tense shoulder, though the hand itself laid utterly still. 

He feels a shifting on the bed and then arms wrapping around him, pulling him into their lithe body, smaller than his, skinnier than his bulged arms, no nails bites him, no arms squashes him, but hugs him closer in comfort, to reassure him that nothing bad will happen, that everything is alright. They are here to protect him, they will fight, that’s what nakama does. That’s what the voice says, chanting it for him to understand it, but the voice didn’t know, that they also easily could be killed, and he doesn’t want to be at fault for that.

Trust us, it said. Trust? What is trust? He can’t even trust himself!

Even so, he’s lulled, taken care of, like a shitty little kid, like the old man did when he had those horrible nightmares of the past, feared that they’d come after him and killed everyone else on their path to get him, to revenge on him for being stupid enough to be born. 

Even though, those humming tones calms him, his ragged breathing subsides, the voice makes him feel composed, though not fully at ease. 

There is no orange hair, but a tousled mob of black.

“It’s okay,” the voice whispers once again, pulling him even closer, as if afraid of that he would run, though he had no strong spine to keep him up – hah! That was almost a pity skull-joke, not even Brook would laugh at, and he most certainly didn’t. “He won’t get you, I won’t allow that, we won’t allow that.” The voice promises, no, it swears. Though as soothing and warm it is, it wasn’t that voice that he’d heard in so many nights speaking to him, through choking dreams, calming him down and make him relax – if only he knew whom it’d been, but he certainly knows now, that the voice doesn’t belongs to this person, the young captain of their ship. “Sanji, I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m right here,”

“L-Luffy…?” 

The kid answer with a reassuringly hum. 

Sanji takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, trying to melt into that comforting hug. His hands have become steadier, his heart pace slowed down a little and the air he breathed doesn’t hurt as much as before. Luffy keeps humming on that song, on what he only can guess are a lullaby as he lolls him back and forth, promising, ensuring, swearing.

He wants to cry of his pitiful person.

Sanji’s shoulders sinks and he takes a long deep breath before he slowly moves his hands away from his ears and hears his captain’s soothing voice clearer. Luffy pulls him closer, burying his nose into the crock of his neck. He hums so that the tone of his song carefully rumbles through his body and shakes the last bits of fear out of him. He wants to believe damn it! He don’t want these constant nights, keeping his friends awake, make them feel horrible just because of him, it’s enough what Chopper had told them, he heard it when they thought he’d been sleeping; if he kept being this angst and nervous, his heart one day wouldn’t be able to follow its pace and just stop.

That’s what he’d said, that’s when Luffy made a promise, yet another promise but the same. “I’ll kill him. I’ll find that Hunter, kick his dirty ass and then I’ll kill him! Then I’ll bring back his body so you can see, Sanji! I’ll bring back his corpse so you can see that he no longer can hurt you.” That’s what he’d said, or rather; that’s what he swore. The ever aware captain knew he’d heard them.h

Luffy rubs his back “You’ll never be alone again, Sanji.” He says. Sanji leans his head onto his shoulder, sighing deeply as he shakes his head slowly and returns the hug, now leaving all of his weight for Luffy to support.

“Don’t make promises like that, it’s only bad luck.” He tells him.

“But it’s true! You’re my nakama and I won’t allow anything bad happen to you, ever again.”

“We’re pirates, stuff happens all the time.” He argues half-heartedly.

“Doesn’t matter, my meaning stands.”

Sanji exhales an empty hollow laugh. “You’re an incorrigible idiot rubber-head.” 

Luffy beams and holds him so close, that he even can feel his ribs starting to protest, but that’s okay, he doesn’t care, as long as they will stop worrying, he won’t care.

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

Zoro stands silently at the other side of the door, his hand still wrapped around the doorknob, clenching and unclenching it, as his inner discussion went about whether or not to open the door. He leans his head against the cool surface and listens to Luffy’s humming song. He’d heard him. He’d heard Sanji’s scream and had come as fast as he could, but Luffy had been faster, since he’d chosen for a long time ago to sleep in the infirmary, keeping watch over the cook. He looks up, looks in through the portrait hole, seeing them wrapping their arms around each other, seeing Luffy lolling him back and forth, as if he’s calming a child instead of a fully-grown teen.

“He’s mentally wounded, pretty badly,” he remembers Chopper telling him the other day, after the cook had woken from his fever.

“Zoro? Please don’t be mean to him as long as he’s in this state, please?” Zoro had been looking confused at the little doctor, who had been sitting right before him, back then, ensuring that he would eat anything of the food that the copycat had cooked for him. He was now a patient of Chopper as well, damn it. Zoro had laid the fork down and reserved a sceptical look from the reindeer.

“How long, will it take?” he had asked, his face just as neutral as it always were. Chopper had looked unsure and upset.

“I dunno, it’s hard to tell, all depends on himself and such…”

And such?” he had asked. Chopper had nodded at that. 

“Depends on how we are against him, I mean, towards him, how we treat him. Zoro,” Chopper had looked pleadingly up at him “promise me that you won’t be harsh towards Sanji. Couldn’t you… couldn’t you try to be a bit nicer towards him?”

Nicer… that was what Chopper had told him to be, but the only way he can be ‘nice’ to that cook wis to stay away from him. He isn’t good at calming people down; he isn’t good to be up close with people like Luffy is. He’s a catastrophe in that and more than often just made things worse, therefore, he stayed away from him, though close if the cook should need aid and close enough so the cook didn’t mistake his distance for something else. 

Every time the blond looked aside; he couldn’t stop watching him. He had become so… thin and completely out of character. He wasn’t him anymore; he was someone that Zoro didn’t dare to go near of, in fear to break him even more.

Sanji had become a silent person. He didn’t show any happiness, no glee, not even any goofing reactions towards the women on the ship, he was smiling occasionally, but the smiles where forced and hurt even more than if he hadn’t forced that expression upon himself. Robin had said that it was because of the traumatized experience he had been through, and that they just had to give him some more time. He knows that, all too well. But how much time does he need? How much time does he have to watch the cook like this? How much longer… should he be like his?

He releases the doorknob and turns on his heel, after ensuring that the cook is okay and safe. He walks to the railing to pick up his hand weights and groans as he can feel a little bump under his bare feet, where he had dropped the weights just a moment ago. He just had to hope that Franky wouldn’t see it, else he would get a hell of lot of troubles with the shipwright… but then again, he also hoped that he would see it; he needs, hungers for a fight, to release his frustrations and anger. The cook isn’t an option anymore, he isn’t even allowed to piss him off, isn’t allowed to pick fights with him, he mis it, more than he’d thought he would. 

He mis being yelled at, misses the idiotic smile and behaviours towards the women on board. He mis his cooking, mis his stupid face scrunching up in annoyance whenever Zoro did something there didn’t fall well with the cook, what was almost everything. He mis to be lectured by him, to annoy him. Hell, he mis the old Sanji, the prissy-cook-Sanji, the damn annoying Aho-cook, and he mis those rare nights where they actually could be friends, take a beer, sit outside on the deck or in the galley and talk about everything and nothing, laugh, tease and then end up in a fight again or watch the cook fall drunken asleep. Damn he mis all of that.

Hunter! That shitty bastard! What the hell had he done to the blond? He knows it takes a lot to break the feisty cook, actually hadn’t thought it would be possible, but here he is, smouldering up little by little, like one of his cancer sticks laying abandoned in an ashtray. 

He wants to gut him, wants to cut him to pieces, wants to make that freak suffer – he had, after all, promised Kitetsu his blood. The katana had been humming ever since the promise, waiting for the day to come, were he would kill Hunter and show his dead body to the whole world… and to Sanji.

He places his hand on his chest as he feels an unfamiliar flutter. 

What was that? 

Heaving a shuddering sigh, Zoro shakes his head, as if shaking a daze off his mind. He drops his weights, inches from his own feet, but doesn’t care, just wants to drown this unfamiliar feeling that makes him feel so uncertain, wavering. He tramps away and up to the galley. He needs some booze, and he needs it now! Come hell, come Franky, he really itches for a fight right about now!

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

Sanji blinks a couple of times as he stares at the dark ceiling. Black shadows flickering in time with the silent dance of the waves splashing quietly against the hull of the ship. He can hear the lull of the waves, no whispers, only the familiar callings from the seagulls, an indication that they were nearing an island. Getting himself lost in this peacefully moment, he slowly, but surely, soon fell asleep again.

When he wakes up again, the morning light is slowly creeping in through the portrait hole. Groaning, he moves slightly, feeling Luffy’s warm chest up against his own cold sweaty torso, arms still wrapped around him, a small snore whispering in his ear like a small breeze. Surprisingly, they’re easily brushed off and the captain rolls along and lands in a small heap at his side, against the wall, mumbling something incoherent. 

Sanji takes a deep breath and pushes himself up on his arms. He stares down at his leg, still in a gypsum. That damn thing! He could curse it far over the Grand Line, and back again. But one week, just one more week and Chopper had told him that he could get the gypsum off, but then came the worst part where he had to train it up again, train the muscles up all over again and God he hated that part, though he at the same time longed to be able to walk, run and fight again. He mis his daily morning-training, stretching his limps to their fullest, bend his body until it said stop and then push it a bit further, a bit further every day, so he could become as flexible as possible, as strong as possible, ready to fight whenever a new enemy would show up. He always did it in the early mornings so he wouldn’t be disturbed, he never trained in the offensive like that damn marimo-head there damn hell definitely were stronger than him right now. Damn shitty fever! Damn shitty leg! Fucking back, curse those feet! 

Argh! Fuck it all! 

He tries though, every morning he tries to see how much his leg or toes would response, though he quickly gets disappointed; each time he can’t even get one of his toes to twitch, because of the damage done to his feet as well. He hadn’t broken his back, just hurt it a fucking lot so his nerves system wasn’t that well communicating with each other. He tries to lift his leg, there’s a halted reaction, but it’s response! It twinges painfully in his lower back, but gritting his teeth and forcing himself a bit more, he actually manage to move it. But the pain is way too soon too unbearable and he finally has to let the leg go back down. Sanji sighs and lays back onto the sickbed with a shuddering breath, fuck it hurts, but hell; it moved! It didn’t last as long as he’d wanted, but; it moved! He knew he could stand on it for a few second, but moving it is a complete other league. As the pain subsided the best it could, he pulls the sheets back over his body and drapes some of it over the now snoring captain.

Sleep. 

It sounds like a really good idea. It’s still shit in the morning and the sun are barely snoozing above the dark horizon. He looks around at the fading shadows, then tries to close his eyes, though sleep doesn’t come to him. 

He groans in annoyance and instead ends up with staring at the snoring captain. He actually envies the kid a little, to be honest. Since he’s still under Chopper’s care, he isn’t allowed to sleep in places other than in the infirmary; he’s okay with that though. The small doctor stayed there every now and then, taking shifts with Luffy. Even though that they only want the best for Sanji, all Sanji wants, is to be alone. Just for now. Just for a while. It’s embarrassing to have them see him like this, to see his break downs. He hates it. He hates himself and he hates that he needs Luffy to calm him down. Or that faceless voice in the nights. He doesn’t complain though, he doesn’t have the heart to do it either, to hurt their feelings more than what he already has done. 

After an hour of thrashing back and forth - surprisingly not waking Luffy - and still not being able to fall asleep, he’s had enough and sits up grumpily. He looks for the wheelchair that Franky had built for him, so that he can move more freely than just being glued to a fucking chair all the time, and moves towards the other end of the bed. As soon as there is enough space on the bed, Luffy shifts and sprawls out so he’s filling every inch of it, just barely leaving enough space for Sanji.

Sanji reaches for the wheelchair, but it’s too far away. Moving a bit closer to the edge of the bed he can finally grab it and carefully pulls it closer. If Chopper found out what he’s doing, alone, he’d have his head, and heart, served on a plate. The reindeer could be quite scary at times, especially when it came to his crewmember’s health. Crabbing his way closer inch by inch, constantly supporting his body with his arms, Sanji licks his lips, as he come to the tricky process: coming from the bed and into the seat, there’s at least forty centimetres apart. If he slips, he’d get a painful landing and then all hell will break loose.

One hand onto the armrest, he looks down. Only forty centimetres, not even a half meter… barely. He places his healthy leg under the leg in gypsum and weighs it. A bit heavy, but not as heavy as it once had felt, and the twinge in the back? Well, fuck it. The good thing is that his strength is slowly returning, that gives him enough courage to make the next step. Ensuring the captain still are asleep, he lifts his leg, and in outstretched arms, he hurries to move from the bed and into the seat. He lands though a bit too hard, making him loose the grip of his foot, there bangs into the floor, a sharp pain shoots up through his leg and up through his back. 

Fuck shit! 

Fearing the sound has woken Luffy, he quickly looks up, only to find the captain still fast asleep. Lifting one foot at a time up into the footrests, getting himself more comfortable in the seat, Sanji tests the wheelchair, happy to find it soundless and careful rolls out into the kitchen, carefully closing the door behind him.

It’s quiet, the lazy growing light from the wakening sun shines in through the portrait hole. The light smell of spices tingles his nose, together with something he only can define as roasted lamb; yesterday’s dinner. The smells make his heart wrench, because it hadn’t been him who had ‘created’ it and served it for the crew. No, it had been this new chef who had cooked it. A temporarily chef, they’d said, a chef he hasn’t met yet. He can’t help the dark thoughts invading him, thoughts that he for so long has tried to suppress. What if he never would be able to walk again? What if Chopper had overseen something and that the damage is worse than he first had established? He’d seen the others worried faces, he’d heard Chopper’s mumble to himself every now and then, when he thought Sanji were asleep – they didn’t seriously think he was that stupid? If they meant there. There was something they weren’t telling him, though everyone tried to ignore the elephant in the room. The mere thought of what they can be hiding from him, makes him sick and even more depressed, and for a moment he feels unwelcome in his own kitchen. His kitchen! Or is it even his kitchen anymore?

“What kind of nonsense are you spouting, cook?” Sanji flinches and gives a small yelp of surprise. He turns fast in his seat to find someone standing in the shadows behind him. Had he really said that out loud? The person steps into the light of the growing sun, pearls of sweat glimpsing in green short hair and on the naked torso, giving the well-trained body a kind of a golden shade. His dark eyes looking him up and down.

“Z-Zoro?” Sanji says breathless, blinking a couple of times.

“Stop giving me those eyes, they don’t suit you!”

“Excuse me?” 

“Those haunted eyes don’t suit the cook of the Straw Hats at all.” Zoro steps closer after placing his bottle of booze onto the table, watching him with an unreadable expression as he steps closer towards him. Sanji widens his eyes, lips parting, his normal steady hands trembles, as they, to his surprise, rolls the wheels to back off a little. When had facing the marimo ever made him nervous? Why was it, when the first mate furrows his brows makes him worry, and his heart almost jump up into his throat, as hands shoots forth and stop him in his retreat. Sanji is afraid, no running away from it and no pond intended. The heck is wrong with him?

Zoro’s eyes gets harder, his pose stiffer and threatening as he stares down at him, and it’s only now Sanji realises how weak and defend less he actually is. 

“What a pathetic sight!” the swordsman spits out, Sanji widens his eyes even more. That hit harder than what it should. “The hell is wrong with you? This isn’t the shit-cook I learned to know,” he says, stands straight so he looks down at him and moves a hand towards him, Sanji is surprised himelf when it gives a jerk in him “this is a weakling in a wheelchair, who thinks that he’s nothing worth it, and he’s not!” 

Sanji’s hands grasps tighter around the wheels, as he looks dark up at the other teen with gritted teeth. “Oi! Watch your mouth, moss-head! You don’t know a shit about how-”

“-it feels to be helpless?” Zoro says, ending his sentence. Sanji blinks in surprise. “Don’t know about how it feels like when things are slipping out of your hands? Don’t know the feeling of helplessness and shame?” the swordsman leans down closer and grabs tight around the armrests, glaring at him as he speaks in a dark tone, sending shivers down along Sanji’s spine, his reaction somehow angering the swordsman. “You say I don’t know how it feels like to lose something?”

Sanji swallows hard and forces himself to move forth and knock his temple against the others, glaring into those black depths. He can’t let his angst take over him again. Not again, not in front of him! “I’m saying that you don’t know a shit about how it feels like to be alone, moss-head!” he spits back and swears that he sees something flash in those eyes for a moment. Zoro grits his teeth and pushes back, grinding their foreheads together, Sanji inhales sharp for a moment, why the fuck is he so scared of the fucking marimo-head? Why can’t he shake this uncomfortable uncertainty off him?

“I know more than many how it feels to be alone, damn cook!” With the final word he pushes himself up, the movement almost sending the wheelchair back, as he goes to the kitchen to grab himself a fruit from the bowl on the counter, while Sanji tries to calm his razing heart. The first mate searches around in the drawers until he finds what he looks for and pulls it out. In the still dark room, Sanji can’t really see what it is, but something deep inside of him knows it. Just the mere thought of it sends shivers through his body. “I’m more alone than anyone on this ship is,” the swordsman admits, his voice calmer than before as he fumbles with a vegetable knife. Sanji’s stare glues to the small sharp blade, as an inner voice chuckles at him. 

“You wanna see what else you can use a knife for, cook?”

“Ho-how the hell can you be that?” Sanji roars up as he rolls the wheelchair up to the other, ignoring the prickling panic of the sight of the knife. The thing a chef fears a freaking knife infuriates him even more than Zoro’s words. “How dare you say such a thing when you got Nami-san at your side every night and every day?” 

Zoro hammers his hand hard onto the counter, spearing the knife deep into the wood. Sanji flinches slightly, not suspecting the man to manhandle anything in his, or rather, this kitchen. He can’t help but stare at the sharp object impaling his, urgh, the counter.

“…let me show you what else a knife can be used to, other than for cooking.”

“I am not together with that sea-witch!” Zoro says through gritted teeth, but Sanji doesn’t really hear him. sweaty hands clamping around the wheels as he can’t pull his eyes off the knife impaling the counter. His breathing becomes raspy, his whole body starts to shake even more, he can even feel himself paling, as his memories drags him back down that road again. “Oi, Shit-cook, look at me,” he barely hears the other say, there soon drowns under the raising voices in his memories, and the living nightmare resurfaces.

The knife. He stood waving around with a what looked like a vegetable knife too, as he came closer with it, running it down his body, pointing it to there.

“No, no not there again,” He’d begged, shaking his head violently as he tried to pull his shuddering body free from the ropes. He froze immediately as the knife pressed against his manhood.

“No, not only there,” Hunter had said, chuckling “we’re goanna have a lot more ‘fun’ with this little one, trust me!”

He can almost see himself in the reflection of the blade, as he inhales sharply… someone is mumbling something above him, but he can’t recognise neither the voice nor the face, he only sees him. Hunter. 

The man where suddenly in his face. Sanji pulled the handcuffs there tied him up to the roof, he tried to move his feet, pain surged through them, dripping with blood, wounds reopened to stop him from running again, for good measure they had bound his legs so they were just as immobile as his hands. Hunter grins in his face, the blade comes up and reflected his own pathetic frightened self. “No, leave me!” he spat as he fought like a wild to get free. 

“You don’t wanna play with me ~?” the monster said in an ever so slightly mocking singsong tone, toying with the knife in his hand.

“No, leave me, leave me ALONE, you sick fucker!”

“Oi! Sanji…” 

Sanji choked as the knife stabbed into his abdomen, reopening his old wounds. His screams and cries echoing in the small moistened chamber, he couldn’t stop himself, not anymore, and the breakdown seemed to humour Hunter, who turned the knife, that it created a hole. Tears running, he can’t keep his screams back anylonger, as the knife was pulled out and impaled right into his shoulder, cutting slowly down without hurting any vital parts.

“Cook!!” 

Someone grabs him and Sanji lets out a fearful cry. His eyes flickers around the room but another rough shake in his body forces him to look straight into those dark eyes. “Sanji! Damn it! Stop it!”

“Stop there! Stop him!” the men called after him as he hurried down the streets. Every part, every limp protesting against his action and screamed for him to stop, his feet hurt, begged him to stop, to take a rest, to just give up, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to go back. He grabbed his bloodied arm, most of the skin had been peeled off, as if he’d been nothing but a living apple to peel. It stung sickly in the large open wound, as would it explode in pain any minute now. The screams and the calls came closer. He hurried around a corner and hid himself in the dark shadows. Panting he leaned up against the cool surface of the brick-wall, bumping his head back as he tried to catch his breath. The air though felt like breathing in sharp needles.

The men ran past him, not looking into the dark alley, not expecting him to hide in there. As the last man were gone, he slid relived down the wall, collapsing on the cold ground. He literally cried of happiness; fat tears ran down his cheeks; he was free! Finally, he was free!

A rumble in the darkness made him freeze. Oh God no! Not him! Please not him! The rumbling became louder, nearing him from his left. Sanji slowly turned, his body shaking uncontrollable. Then he saw them. Two yellow eyes lightning through the darkness, glaring hungrily and furiously into his almost pale blue. The beast stepped closer, slowly, sending shivers through his body for each step. A large red tongue licked hungrily around its mouth. Sanji tried to pull himself away from it. Then it fastened its pace as he did, one large push with its hind legs and it was over him. He let out a yell of horror, as the tiger tumbled him to the ground, bit him in the leg and pulled him away, back to that place, back to all that.

“Oi cook?!” 

“God damn it! Come to yourself!”

“Come back, Sanjiii,” Hunter chuckled, as he tried to pull himself away, down the dark corridor. Even the sound of his voice made the blood in his veins freeze. His ears were ringing, it took time before he realised it was caused by his own scream, as claws jammed into his leg again, sinking deep and tearing down, slowly. Then he was dragged back, back to that room, his nails breaking as they scraped against the rough surface of the wooden floor, leaving another trail of blood.

“Sanji!”

A firm voice sounds in his ear, as arms comes around him, and something suddenly presses hard against his mouth. Sanji blinks in confusion, suddenly torn out from one scene into another unrealistic one: Zoro, kissing him…?

What. The. Fuck?!

\---TOBD---TOBD---TOBD---

For the first time Zoro will admit he were lost, of what to do. The cook had an externalising behaviour, almost impossible to get through. The swelling at his eye probably will be visible later the day, but he’d had worse. The cook didn’t even know what he was doing, beside trying to defend himself from whatever his mind attacked him with. Since Luffy’s hugs didn’t help with anything but giving him blue marks, his body reacted to a last solution: attack a shock with another shock.

The cook is all silent now and it takes some time before realisation hit him with what kind of a new shock, he’d given the cook. Zoro looks horrified at him, and in an instant as the motoric parts of his body begins to function again, he immediately pulls away, for then instead to sling his arms around him. Sanji is clearly still not comprehending what the fuck just happened, and neither does Zoro. And he doesn’t even know how to explain himself, because originally, he’d thought of a slap to the face, not a fucking smooch to the face! 

He almost panicks, almost. He doesn’t want to freak out. He’ll blame it on his coordination, though something in him accuses it for being a blatant lie. Zoro waits for a reaction, but nothing happens. 

The cook just sits there, staring at nothing at all, still as a statue. Did he kill him? No, no he’s still breathing, he can feel it against his ear.

Zoro swallows and curses his rash brainless reaction. Chopper will have him castrated if he has made the blond’s condition worse. He looks around, trying to find the right words to execute the uncomfortable and embarrassing silence hanging in the air. He takes a deep breath and pulls away.

“Look, shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to -?” Sanji grabs hold of his arm as he pulls away, hand grabbing tighter as he tries to get his arm back, nails embedding, close to tearing through his skin. Then the ragged breathing began, wheezing in through slight parted lips, almost as if he can’t get the oxygen out of the air he inhales. He’s shaking again, clawing at his arm to stay, as if he’s afraid to loose it for real, if Zoro leaves.

He’s having another panic attack. Damn it!

“Cook, oi cook, swirl brow, you’re stronger than this!” But Sanji isn’t listening, he has that distant look again.

“Don’t.” he says, hand tightens, Zoro hisses. “Stay.” 

Sighing, he kneels before the blond and this time only lays a comforting hand on his, ignoring the fact his arm is bleeding. The touch only revealing how much weight the cook has lost, it is, as if the skin only were draped over his bones and thin but long muscles. 

“You can do this.” If he doesn’t act fast, he’ll have another seizure. 

All because of a fucking knife and his stupid reaction of him giving the cook another shock.

What was it Chopper used to say to calm him, when no other talking helped?

“Sanji,” he says calmly, a name he rarely used. He tries to go a tone deeper, calmer, like he used to speak to him, when it only was the two of them in the infirmary, when Sanji was having an attack or even a seizure. The seizures almost more horrible than the attacks, almost, both of them strained his heart too much. Chopper talked about that they had used some different kind of dangerous drugs on him to calm him down, and to even force him into different kind of attacks, even an insulin coma therapy, that was his guess since when Luffy found the cook, his blood sugar had been dramatically low. If Chopper hadn’t checked it up as a normal routine, Sanji might not even ever had woken up from his insulin coma, but he wanted to be sure, depending on the length of the “treatment”, he’d said people normally would gain weight, on Sanji though it apparently was the opposite. Yet he hadn’t dared to ask the blond of all the stuff they’d put him through, worst case scenario it could provoke yet another attack. Zoro would never admit it out loud, but he all but knew how an Insulin coma therapy felt like, it was a nightmare, an utter nightmare.

Zoro is still angry at himself for letting the blond go that night, alone. But who’d the fuck though about that he’d be attacked with such dirty measures? Any other normal person would never had survived such a hell hole or at least ended up as a total wreck, yet the cook withstood it, alone, he wasn’t a quitter, he was a fighter.

But for how much longer? Even he is just a mere human, just as himself. Even though he acted normal, he’d seen those haunted stares, and then there still these attacks.

“Whose voice do you hear?” he asks, remembering what Chopper had told him. Sanji doesn’t react though, and Zoro has to kill the urge to shake him awake. “Whose voice do you hear, Sanji?”

The blond swallows, lips parts to let a tongue wet them. “He… his…” the blond says slowly. Not good, but at least he’s answering.

“He’s not here. Try to listen carefully,” shall he say it? “Curl-brow!” is it even okay to call him names right now? “Whose voice?”

Sanji frowns and closes his eyes. Good, he’s trying at least. “No,” he says as an afterthought. “Not possible.”

“Why not?”

“He’d never… act like, that.”

Zoro groans. Dang it! “Try listen to my voice, Aho-cook, and forget what I just did!” he says. “Logic aside; who’s voice does you hear? Say my name, Sanji. Name the one you mean that you can hear.” 

Sanji swallows and concentrates again. “Zoro.” 

“That’s right, curl-brow, it’s me, Zoro.” He sighs in relief. Okay, now they’re back on track. “I promise, that bastard will never be allowed near you again, ya hear me?” Sanji nods slowly, and flinches as Zoro stiffly tries to comfortingly run his hand in circles on his back. Slowly the pale hand relaxes, and the cook actually leans into his touch. Huh. 

“You good, cook?” Zoro asks a bit careful. 

Sanji breathes in a shuddering breath. “Getting there.” He says “Just, keep talking.” 

“About what?” he asks, doing his best to keep the calm tone, though it was quite… weird talking like this to the blond. Not even hugs he’d ever do with him. Chopper, Luffy, even Usopp, the young ones on this ship, even a babbling Brook, who’d cried a river once he’d talked about his promise to that giant whale Laboon, though he still can’t figure out how the heck a skeleton can cry, when they doesn’t even have eyes. Even that kid Oliver.

“Anything, just… anything on your mind.” Sanji presses. So Zoro rages his brain of anything to talk about, and then, he talks, about whatever comes to his mind.

Sanji relaxes and unconsciously drabs his arms around him and holds him, as Zoro tries to ignore the growing heat inside of him and keeps talking about what shit in the world to exist.

“You’re like a hugging-bear.” The cook suddenly murmurs tiredly.

“Where the heck did that one come from.” Zoro asks, a bit offended. 

“Truth.” Is all he says and gives a half-hearted pitiful hug in return to point out his meaning. Zoro snorts.

“I am not a ‘hugging-bear’, idiot-cook,” Zoro whistles annoyed.

“Too.” He argues, tiredly, not long from falling asleep. Understandable, that shit takes it tools on every normal living person.

“M’not!” Zoro argues back, cracking a smile as Sanji halts for a second and chuckles.

“Hugging bear,” he weakly gets his arms around Zoro’s neck, and almost gags him.

“You, sadist! Can’t breathe!” It’s a blatant lie. Sanji snorts in amusement.

“Good, less noise to listen to.”

“Idiot.”

“My line.”

“swirl-cook.”

“Mari-mo.”

Zoro sighs and lays a hand to his head. “Go to sleep, cook.” Not two seconds later, the cook is fast asleep. He lets out a shivering breath as he sighs in relief. Good, thankfully he managed to fix up what he almost screwed up. He scoops the blond up in his arms, not liking how light he feels, and carries him back to the infirmary, careful not to fuck up the leg even more, or for that sake the fragile back. He has to talk to Chopper about this, though he knows the reindeer did all in his might to make sure the cook got all of the nutrients to gain some weight, but it’s hard when the person doesn’t feel hungry. 

He doesn’t think much of the missing occupancy of their captain, as he drapes the quilt over the blond and takes seat on the chair, next to the bed.

\--TOBD-- TOBD-- TOBD—

Luffy chuckles as he looks through the portrait hole and watches his first mate fall asleep. He’s glad to see Zoro open up like this towards Sanji. Zoro had always cared for their cook, he cares for all of them, but he rarely showed it, and Sanji needed to be showed how much they cared for him now, in particular Zoro it seems like.

Luffy yelps in pain as a row of sharp teeth suddenly bites into his hand, covering the reindeer’s mouth, and releases him at once.

“Why’d you do that, Chopper?” Luffy whines, sucking on his ‘wounded’ fingers.

Chopper points at him. “Why did you hinder me in going in and help Sanji?” he fumes. Luffy blinks a couple of times before cracking up a smile, Chopper almost seems surprised at that.

“Nothing to worry about, Zoro took care of him!” Chopper blinks once again.

“Eh? Zoro did? Really?”

“Yup! Really-really!” He says proudly and nods at the door. “They’re both sleeping in there now!”

“Can I see?” Chopper asks, and Luffy lifts him up to see. 

Chopper giggles. “He did as I asked him.”

“What did you ask of him?” Luffy helps him back on his hooves and are happy to see the wide smile on the reindeer.

“To be nicer to Sanji. I hope he’ll keep up with it, even after Sanji has gotten better. It’d be a nice break from always patching them up aside from the fights with the marine or other pirates.”

“Whelp, I don’t think you have to worry about Zoro not acting nice, only about their fights.” Luffy says, laughing. 

 

~To be continued~

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to Mari-chan (Skriblerier earlier Marhi) for Beta-reading this chapter ^o^


End file.
